


Wishing on a Star

by Kensalyn



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, Spa Day, Star Gazing, Vacation, besides that it's gonna be a very mild Teen rating, big fancy parties, government jobs, monster hate groups, sick day, small town, the teen rating is for all the blood that will happen later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kensalyn/pseuds/Kensalyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“you know, you really shouldn’t be here.”<br/>“Wh-why not?” you demanded as bravely as you could.<br/>“because.” The deep male voice sounded casual as he nodded his head in the direction you had come. “here there be monsters.”<br/>It was hard to make out in the dark of a moonless night, but your heart sunk even deeper as you realized what you had passed: it was a strip of yellow caution tape that had somehow come loose from a metal pole, from which more tape trailed in the other direction.<br/>You were in fact inside the designated monster zone.<br/>*<br/>Reader/Sans fic, where you and Sans bond in secret over your love of the night sky, and then are thrown together by much greater and more public circumstances</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start isn't Always the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>      Hello all y'all out there!!
> 
>  
> 
>      It's like three in the morning where I am, and I'm just posting this because I'm super duper over excited about getting this party on the road! I am positive that in the morning I am going to realize that my formatting looks hideous and I have to change everything. But that is for tomorrow. And probably by the end of tomorrow (or Monday) I will have chapter two up and running. This is gonna be fun y'all. I'm excited. And please, any and all feedback is much loved and cherished! See ya at the end!!

 

**Chapter 1**

     Sometimes, just when things in life look their bleakest, when you can’t find anyone to help, when the universe seems ready to create a black hole just to tuck you away from the world, sometimes, in these most desperate feeling moments, wishes do in fact come true.

     Ironically, at the moment, you were wishing they didn’t.

     You stared at your glowing hands and felt the throbbing in your head threaten to break your skull, people scrambling around you. What was it they saw, what was making them yell like that? Were you doing it? The pressure built up again to a max in your head and you cringed back, overwhelmed by it. It had to be coming from you, whatever it was that was causing the panic. You’d seen videos of what happened to others: Things exploding, people hurt, objects thrown around. All you could see was blue lines, spinning around you like the bars of a twisted birdcage unraveling. Your head pounded out a staccato beat with no pattern, no course, just a high pitched banging on your brain that tore at your senses. The shouting outside of your head didn’t seem to be words, but you could feel the emotion of the crowd’s screams echoed by your own. Really, you’d be screaming yourself if you weren’t so frozen by disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to you. This just couldn’t be. You were sure you were fine. You had been positive.

     One voice in the crowd outside your head seemed to be louder than the others, calling out in such an encouraging tone that it felt surreal. But the positivity and volume seemed familiar…

     Just in time to see a tall white and orange figure vault over your spinning wall of blue lines (so it was real and surrounding you, not just searing through your mind), you focused on reality enough to recognize the famous monster rushing towards you. You cringed back, still in panic mode, but he was having none of it and wrapped his long arms clear around you, holding you tight.

     “DO NOT FEAR, HUMAN, YOU ARE ALRIGHT! TAKE DEEP BREATHS AND LISTEN TO MY VOICE!”

     The breaths were shaky, but you did as he asked while he bellowed more encouraging words, telling you everything would be great, and that you could do this, that he believed in you, even going so far as to compliment your hairdo. That elicited a nervous laugh from you, at which he seemed to stand even taller and increased his volume.

     The shouting from the crowd around you had died down you realized. Daring to look past the monster’s shoulder, you glanced at the many faces surrounding you, some covered by phone cameras, some in shock, but all seen through slowly moving blue bars that seemed to be less stark than they had been moments before. One cameraman in particular (holding an actual camera) was shoved to the front of the crowd by the robot that had minutes earlier been up on stage with the very monster that was now hugging you tightly.

     “YOU ARE DOING WONDERFULLY HUMAN,” he continued. “LOOK AT HOW QUICKLY YOU’VE GOTTEN THIS BACK UNDER CONTROL!” He had noticed that you’d regained enough composure to be looking around. He pulled you away so that you could look at his face.

     It was an enveloping distraction, that was for sure. Even after months of knowing monsters were real, after seeing so many of their faces, something about seeing Papyrus up close was more surreal than anything else currently happening. His head was almost like a human skull, but the hard bone allowed movement for facial expressions, and seemed to be more thickly set than any skeleton hanging in a classroom, filling in to be less terrifying and a bit more relatable than the cackling bones you’d seen on cartoons as a child. In the back of your mind, a little something prodded at you that this should by all logic be a horrifying experience. But as Papyrus the Great grinned down at you, instead you felt immediately comforted.

     “A FEW MORE DEEP BREATHS. I THINK THAT WILL DO IT! KEEP GOING, HUMAN! YOUR HAIR IS STILL LOOKING SPECTACULAR!”

     That was it, that was all it took. As the smile burst across your face and you wondered at how this monster could so quickly dash into danger thinking of nothing but helping you regain some normalcy and calm, Papyrus hollered in success as the bars faded away. The crowd, however kept their distance. They seemed unconvinced that it was now safe.  
The robot with the cameraman, however, seemed utterly convinced. He burst forward from the now disintegrated barrier.

     “Carl, come get this shot! Papyrus, how incredible, darling! What bravery! What daring!! What DRAMA!!”

     Papyrus turned to face the extremely life-like robot, still holding you in a protective side-hug. He was blushing deeply, but puffed out his chest. “Well of course, Mettaton! The Great Papyrus is always incredible!!”

     “Tell me, what did you say to this poor overpowered human? What is your secret to handling situations with such swift bravado? What can you tell a waiting world of the secret to courage? Which of the Mettaton classics is your favorite?? What is your name, darling??”

     The questions came as a dramatized barrage at Papyrus, who opened his mouth at the end of each only to get caught up in the next. The last, however, was directed at you. From out of nowhere, it seemed, Mettaton had produced a microphone and extended his arm just enough that it hovered millimeters from your mouth.

     “I-I… uh…” Nervousness crept back as you looked at the faces of the humans around you. So many were horrified at your outburst. You could see their thoughts through their expressions, reading them easily. After all, the same overwhelming questions were dancing in your own head.

     Papyrus hugged you a bit tighter, and you realized that he had noticed before you that a blue glow had begun to re-tinge your hands.

     “ER, APOLOGIES, METTATON, I AM SURE SHE WOULD BE HONORED TO BE INTERVIEWED ON YOUR SHOW, BECAUSE WHO WOULD NOT! BUT I BELIEVE THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO REST FOR NOW. PERHAPS ANOTHER DAY!”

     Mettaton nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, but of course, that is understandable!” Microphone disappearing into wherever it had come from, the robot placed a hand solidly on your shoulder. You could feel sincerity in the gesture, but also could sense how he angled himself just right for the camera. “You can come talk to me about this life-changing development after the shock has lifted! Then we’ll be sure to have a great interview, and you can tell the world your sure-to-be thrilling life story!” He winked, then turned back to Carl. “So be sure to tune in to The Mettaton Show, darlings, for all your exclusive insights to Monster life, Human magic, and of course, DRAMA!!... And cut! Come on now, Carl, we have twenty minutes to get to set for the Mettaton Cooking Show!”

     Papyrus had turned you away from Mettaton right after he’d turned to the camera, and was walking you through the crowd. People were moving carefully out of your way, then would go back to waving towards the camera so they could prove to their friends and family that they really had been there. Your hands were still shaking, but Papyrus’s friendly arm around you helped to keep you focused on steady breaths.

     Quicker than you expected, you were out of the crowd. The outdoor theater you’d been in was large, and you realized you had felt like the crowd would never end, that you’d be trapped in this horrific moment forever. Then you remembered why having magic bursting from your hands was such a bad thing, remembered the things you’d been told in confidence, and realized that if those things had been true…

     You were about to have a bad time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, yeah, for sure gonna have to reformat. I'm putting this up on mobile. Bad idea, perhaps, but it's all I got while I'm on vacation, so I'll fix it when I'm home!
> 
> Update: I ended up trying to fix it on mobile... never doing that again! ...Probably! Such a pain. But hey, it's much neater now, and I'm happy with that!
> 
> So! How do y'all like the intro to papyrus? Yes, this is a Sans/Reader fic, but I really wanted to let Pap shine first, since it's gonna be a long time before we come back around to seeing him again, and I think Sans would love the spotlight being on his bro anyways.
> 
> Next chapter, we zip back in time to see how in the world you found yourself in this crazy situation! No Sans yet next chapter, but just wait for it... The build up is workin its magic! We'll get there soon enough, trust me!
> 
> (Do I put a disclaimer thingy here?... if so, Undertale is Toby Fox's thing, not mine!)


	2. Starry-Eyed Dreamer

     Yay!  I made it home from a very lovely vacay in time to post this chapter!  Thank you to everyone who's already bookmarked, commented, and given kudos to this fic; one chapter in and I'm already blushing!  Y'all are in for a treat, if I don't sound too proud of myself saying that.  Really, I'm excited to share this with you.  I've got biiiiiiiiig plans :D

* * *

  

**Chapter 2**

     It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining, the birds were singing…

     You sighed contentedly as you smelled the flowers blooming on the tree above you, watching as the breeze pulled petals lightly through the air to compliment the trills of the birds. It was perfect. Nothing about this day suggested to you that, months later, you would be shaking in the arms of a skeleton protector as a robot attempted to interview you on international tv. The only thing to bother you was the thought you had tucked away into the back corner of your mind, and that was having to work an extra shift on the front desk the next day. You loved working at the local spa-slash-hippie gift shop (even if you didn’t know how you felt about that whole “crystals can heal your spirit” mentality) and the friendly environment it had, but you had been asked almost twice a week to stay extra hours. Whatever. Everyone had to pull their weight, right? And besides, that’s just how it went, being the new girl, and you were determined to impress.

     You’d just moved to the small town that rested in the shadow of the mysterious Mt. Ebott, and so far your time in Aspen City had been just what you’d hoped. Quiet, fairly secluded, and far enough from home to have a fresh start as you set out on your own. Since there was a small college in the town, your neighbors were used to people your age moving in and out frequently, so no one had come knocking at your door with a batch of cookies or plate of brownies, which you actually appreciated. They would wave congenially as you got your mail or walked to work while they tended their gardens or sat relaxed on their porches, but that was about it.

     Like you said. Perfect.

     Sighing, you noticed the light was dying down. The sun had touched the horizon, dying the sky a bright orange and the clouds a blushing pink. It was the brightest one you’d seen grace Aspen City yet.

     Granted, you admitted inwardly as you stood up and walked back to your half of the rented condo, you had only seen about three week’s worth of sunsets here. And the sunsets weren’t your favorite part of the sky out here anyway. In about an hour, as a reward for finishing your evening chores, you would come back out for maybe thirty minutes and gaze at the stars that had never been able to shine so freely in the dense suburbs where you’d grown up. As a kid you’d loved the night sky, memorizing constellation patterns and facts about planets, learning all the interesting tidbits you could about those twirling lights in the dark. Something about them captivated you. Perhaps it was the idea that, amidst all the black, there could be drops of matter scattered around that each managed to create something so strong, it broke through darkness itself to carve it’s existence. It was inspiring, to think that no matter the overwhelming and infinite darkness that the universe held, these lights shone strongly enough to announce themselves light-years away, long after they were tired and gone. And not only that, but then to recognize the dance they formed around each other, the masterful performance they offered every night, was spectacular. Tonight, the constellations seemed to sing at you, welcoming even the occasional satellite that sped through their show to join along. It was a symphony of lights in the darkness, declaring in their melodies that even the smallest light could shine despite the black. You tilted your head to the sky for one last glance at the stained clouds, imagining just what stars would take their place in a matter of time…

     BAM.

     Something forced you to stumble backwards in shock, tumbling to your backside and hand flying up to your offended face as a heat ripped through your cheekbone, your focus ripped back to earth.

     The pole by the door. You had run right into the pole by the door.

     Oh geez. This seemed to be a regular occurrence for you, geeking out so badly about something or other that you forgot about the world currently around you. You quickly glanced over your shoulder, looking to see if anyone had been witness to your embarrassing mistake. A couple sat on their porch across the road, staring at the sunset. The husband was coughing nonchalantly into his hand as his wife set her hand on his shoulder. Yeah. They’d for sure seen.

     Face bright red, you stood up and opened the front door, carefully keeping your distance from the wooden pole. It took you a moment of fumbling with the knob before it opened; seemed there were a lot of things about this home you had yet to get used to.

     Locking the door, your first pull was to the bathroom to take a look at the damage, but you decided sheepishly to save yourself the backtracking and went straight to the kitchen to pull a cold pack out of the freezer and put it gingerly on your cheek. Ow. It was already tender.

     The bathroom mirror confirmed your suspicions; it was swelling quickly and a bit discolored under your eye, making it obvious your face would be awkwardly uneven at work tomorrow. You had fallen out of the habit of wearing makeup, but it looked like tomorrow was going to call for all your long-lost skills.

     With a long groan you let your body push itself back to the kitchen. You’d planned to eat a nice meal before hopping in bed, but a microwave burrito would take plenty of effort now. Setting the cold pack on the counter for just a minute, you pulled the frozen lump out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave, then took the cooking time to get your favorite toppings out of the fridge. By the time your burrito was sitting on a plate topped with sour cream, salsa, avocado slices, and a sprig of cilantro, your cheekbone was getting uncomfortably warm again, pulsing with the pain. You could feel a headache forming.

     One bite into your burrito, you were positive: it wasn’t just a little discomfort, this was going to be a massive headache. Abandoning the food that was looking more and more unappetizing despite your attempts to make it so, you and your cold pack trudged back to the bathroom once again to find some pain killers. So much for not having to backtrack, you mumbled to yourself as you paused halfway to return to the counter and grab your phone, which you had absentmindedly placed by your plate.

     The pill bottle was harder to open than it normally was, and you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you. Your vision was sliding in and out of focus and you were getting more and more frustrated as your hands began to shake. Shoving your phone in your pocket and letting the cold pack drop to the floor, you growled as you struggled against the childproof cap.

     “Just-- just open,” you managed to hiss at it. It must have been very intimidated by your sweating, trembling form combined with your angry tone, because at this the lid snapped off, little orange pills flying everywhere. With one long groan you leaned against the sink. Your legs were shaking, you realized. Maybe you really weren’t ok. Had you given yourself a concussion? Was this what concussions did?

     Embarrassment overcoming you as the memory of the couple across the street came back to your mind, you fumbled with your phone, remembering that your neighbor that lived on the other side of your condo had given you his number in case you ever needed anything, and had even mention he owned a car if you ever needed a ride. He was a nice college kid, super committed to his studies and seemingly incredibly social despite the demand those studies placed on him. He’d help out, you were sure, even if you felt a twinge of hesitation before calling. You dispelled the thought of disturbing him immediately though; this felt more and more serious by the second.

     “H-hello, Jared? I’m sorry, b-but I think I need a ride? I-it’s a concussion, I think. A bad one.”

     You waited anxiously, phone clutched to your ear. Your vision was swimming around you, and you stumbled towards the door. Had you locked it? You didn’t want him to have to break a window or something trying to help you. Was someone beating a drum directly over you?...

     “Myew.”

     …

     Had Jared just… mewed at you?

     As a pressure bigger than Mt. Ebott itself blackened your sight, your last thought was how that was incredibly rude.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headaches: 2, You: 0 is the score so far in this fic. Don't worry, you'll get some wins soon!
> 
> Next chapter introduces the monster you've been waiting for...... I've got a busy week ahead of me, catching up with everything I missed while I was away from home, but the next chapter is already almost finished! So, I'm planning on having it up by Wednesday, possibly Tuesday, we'll see what happens! See y'all in a few days! (or in the comments!)
> 
> P.S. I needed a place to store my reference pics and thoughts for this fic, so I made a tumblr for it! It's http://wishingonasans.tumblr.com/ if you're interested, or if you want another way to contact me!


	3. Seeing Stars

Happy Tuesday everyone!  It's a great day for a new cha--  Hold on folks, I've just been handed a note by our Director of Operations.  *opens note I handed to myself*

Wha-- Friday?! That can't be right, it's not... let's see, sunday, monday, tuesday, tuesday, tuesday...fruesday... um...

Ok, I'm late.  Like really late.  So I think I owe you guys something.  How about a chapter today, and another chapter tomorrow?!  Maybe I should just make this a Fri/Sat thing... later in the week seems to work better than early in the week, apparently.  Which means, tomorrow Sans finally shows his face!  Yaaay!

 

**Chapter 3**  

     Lights slid over a canvas of black, coalescing into orbs of brightness. Colors came slowly, but you recognized the warmth of orange and the calm of blue before their shades were apparent. They swirled, never quite mixing as they seemed to bounce in joy with each other, the orange tumbling around the blue as the blue pulsed contentedly. You wished that you could do that; mingle light with another light, mix and twirl them till they hummed with each other in a happy accord.

     But that didn’t sound like a hum. It sounded more like a screech. A very inconsistent screech. And that pounding didn’t sound happy.

     Someone was yelling, the sound heavily muffled. You were lying on the ground, in the open space between the kitchen and the bathroom. Groaning and lifting yourself to your elbows, you started counting your blessings: you hadn’t fallen on your injured cheek. And you happen to land on the fluffy carpet you’d decided to give yourself as a housewarming gift instead of the laminate faux-wood flooring. And your headache seemed to be much better despite your having to still squint at the lights flashing through your home from outside the front window.

     Orange and blue. No, that was wrong, red and blue. They were police lights. Or ambulance. You felt your heart tighten. Had Jared panicked and called you an ambulance? You vaguely remembered calling him to ask for help and something odd happening.

     Pulling yourself to your feet, you snatched your phone from the ground before heading to the door someone was pounding on. The screeching siren outside mercifully seemed to fade off. The knocking and shouting was more insistent now.

     “Hey, anybody home in there? Hello!”

     You unlocked and pulled open the door in one swift motion, surprising the young (yet very mustached, wow that thing was huge) officer who seemed to have just turned away to call over to someone back by the road.

     “Oh, evening.” His surprised eyebrows fell to concerned as he spotted the lump under your eye. “Ma’am, there’s been an electrical surge in the area. Are you in any need of assistance? Electrical burns… bumps or bruises?” Behind him were several vehicles lining the street, all flashing red and blue lights. Three police cars and two ambulances, you counted. Your gaze turned to the sky. The tinge of orange had almost completely given way to a dark blue. Pricks of white light would have been easier to pick out at this point, if there weren’t so many red and blue ones flashing in your eyes. So it had been maybe twenty or thirty minutes since you went into the house.

     “Ma’am? Is there anyone else home who might need assistance?”

     “…Oh!” You noticed the officer had glanced pointedly as your cheek, then glanced behind you, a silent assurance that you could ask for help if you needed it. “Oh, no, it’s just me here. I live alone. I…” You felt your cheeks heat up. “I ran into, um…” You nodded your head bashfully to the wooden pole to the officer’s left. “Yeah. Then I kinda… uh, fainted.”

     The officer nodded understandingly, but allowed a little smile on his lips as he scratched his mustache. “You might want to get checked out anyways, then. I’ll have one of the EMTs come over,” he said, holding out an arm to help you sit on the porch step.

     “Ok. Thanks.”

     “Glad you answered the door; your neighbors across the street assured us you were home. I was thinkin’ for a minute we’d have to knock your door in like we did the kid who caused this mess."  The officer pushed his upper lip to the side, mustache hairs almost grazing his lower lip, as he shook his head in obvious disapproval at "the kid", then turned his attention back to you.  "You sit tight; we’ll have someone right over.”

     He then tipped an invisible hat, and jogged over to the nearest ambulance.

     You looked around, observing more intently what was happening on your street. Neighbors were huddled around the vehicles, some talking animatedly to police, others wincing as what must have been burns were tended to. Officer Mustache had said there was an electric surge, but you’d never heard of a surge that did more than fry unfortunate electronics. It would take a freaky one to cause physical injuries to people.

     Sighing, you pulled out your phone and unlocked it, intending to google this conundrum immediately. But instead of your regular home screen, an app was open. It was a game you’d downloaded to pass the time a while ago. A cat app.

     For the umpteenth time tonight, you felt your face flush red. The memory rushed back as you realized that instead of calling Jared like you’d thought, you’d instead fed your visiting cat, Mack. And Mack had mewed in gratitude.

     Oh, jeez. Well, now you were positive that Jared hadn’t been bothered by you. Come to think of it, you’d been sure he was home, (it was Tuesday, the night he’d mentioned was his “homework night”) but glancing around the busy neighborhood, you hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe he was on his porch like you?

     Tentatively you stood, surprised that you weren’t dizzy after the crash you’d had. In fact you’d felt better and better since waking up. It only took a few seconds to cross the distance to see around the other side of the condo to Jared’s door.

     The sight made you freeze. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Your heart pounded, and you grabbed the twin of the pole you had run into for reassurance this was real.

     Jared’s door, hanging by a precarious hinge, had been forcibly knocked in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Duuuuuuun! Oh No, the peril of a character we haven't met yet!! ohhh noooo!!
> 
> Anybody catch what the cat app is based off of? And extra points to whoever knows why I chose Mack as the cat! (big hint alert: his personality type might be the same as a certain video game protagonist)
> 
> This, honestly, is probably my least favorite chapter. I don't like it. Nothing happens here. It's all setting up for later, and I just wanna get to the fun parts already. Well.... Tomorrow's gonna be a good day.


	4. Bright Dots in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Sans appears!

**Chapter 4**

     "The world is reeling from the double deep revelation of these past five days: Emerging Tuesday evening from a cavernous Mount Ebott, a race of monsters, yes, confirmed monsters, have reintroduced themselves after hundreds if not thousands of years trapped beneath the bedrock. With these seemingly well-intentioned arrivals, the world was handed another shock: a force described only as "magic" has been unleashed on the human race. An initial count suggests this has caused an awakening of innate abilities in about one in every ten-thousand in the hundred mile radius surrounding the mountain, the numbers of effected people dropping drastically with increasing distance from the peak. However, incidents of magic-effected people have been reported as far off from the surrounding American towns as England, Honolulu, and even a possible incident in Russia. The world is in a panic, and it seems only logical to turn our suspicions to the newly surfaced monsters, and discover what their intentions truly are."

     "Wow, Julie, things sure are hopping, aren't they?"

     "They sure are, Bob. They sure are!"

     "Thanks, Julie. Tune in tonight at five for the full story on Monsters and Magic! Now on to Wayne for the wea--"

 

     Click.

     Pausing the newscast video in the stream on your social media network, you dragged the scrubber back to the beginning and started it for the third time, not sure what it was you were looking for. As Julie’s overly-botoxed face went through the motions yet again, you ran over the events of the past few days in your mind. Your neighborhood had been in an uproar, and you had to be careful in your small cozy town now as media vans sped along the road and reporters wandered the streets with cameramen, looking for locals to interrogate. Ok, you’d seen five vans and two reporters. It was still too many for you. This was the opposite of what you came to the cozy little town for.

     Sighing, you shut the laptop and glanced at your phone. Two missed (ignored, honestly) calls, one from an overly curious friend back home and one from Mom.

     Your mother had called once a day since the reports first came out, worried that her little girl was next door to a magic-infused person, let alone under the looming shadow of Mt. Ebott, and every day you had reassured her that you were fine, you hadn’t so much as seen a monster because they had all been given an area of land near the mountain, and Jared wasn’t even at his home. In fact, this last bit worried you quite a bit. He’d been so friendly to you, and you hated the thought of him being in trouble of any kind. They had mentioned his name on the news once before, but not anything about where he was now or if he was alright. You found yourself wondering at one point if he had any pets, and if you should check on them. Then again, he had lots of friends. Maybe if one of them came by, concerned for a Fido or Spot, you could see if they knew anything. Or a family member.  So far, however, you hadn’t seen anyone. You hoped at least those close to him knew how he was.

     There were other things you didn’t mention to your mother. Like how you’d smacked your face, and your cheek had swollen so much that your boss took one look at your black eye the next day and sent you straight home, despite the need for your double shift at the front desk. That was beginning to die down anyways, you had reasoned with yourself. And you didn’t want to think about how you’d lied to her. No, not by neglecting to tell her about your eye. About the other thing.

     You had in fact seen a monster.

 

     Your neighborhood had been much busier than usual, cars taking slow detours or cameras getting a shot of the house from which had burst a blue force-field wielding electric energy. And for two nights in a row, (first being Tuesday, the second for the same reason as the current night) you had missed your star-gazing routine. You’d be darned if you missed it for a third time. And you had also decided you deserved something special.

     Your telescope wasn’t much to holler at, but it was a treat to you. With it’s carrying case slung over your shoulder, you had taken the back door to escape the onlookers and trudged up to a spot you knew would be isolated. It was closer to Mt. Ebott, which people had been generally avoiding except for occasional reporters from CNN or whatever in the early morning hours. There was an open grassy area that you knew would be far from any streetlights that might hamper your sight of the night sky.

     After a while of walking you came to your chosen spot and contentedly set up your telescope, taking off your jacket to kneel on as you peered through the lens. Orion was the first constellation you set your sights on. There was something about it that drew your attention tonight, as though it had a particular song to unveil to you. You were happy to oblige, turning your lens to focus as tightly as you could on the individual stars. The way they shimmered slightly you knew was due to the distance and atmosphere, but it still felt like they were gently speaking, sending a silent message right to you. You could almost hear it.

     “hey, pal.”

     You screeched and yanked your face away from the telescope, knocking your swollen cheek against it, causing you to retreat in pain as you whipped around.

     “woah, hey, take it easy.” A figure stood there, but you couldn’t see much beyond their size and shape in the dark. To your relief, they were shorter than you by about four inches, and were about fifteen, maybe twenty feet away from you. You suddenly were starkly aware of how stupid you were for wandering in a place you didn’t completely know, and for being out so late by yourself. But at least this person hadn’t snuck right up behind you as they very obviously could have.

     “you know, you really shouldn’t be here.”

     “Wh-why not?” you demanded as bravely as you could.

     “because.” The deep male voice sounded casual as he nodded his head in the direction you had come. “here there be monsters.”

     It was hard to make out in the dark of a moonless night, but your heart sunk even deeper as you realized what you had passed: it was a strip of yellow caution tape that had somehow come loose from a metal pole, from which more tape trailed in the other direction.

     You were in fact inside the designated monster zone.

     “I—I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to— I’ll just—” Scrambling to gather your things, you almost knocked the telescope over, causing it to teeter dangerously on two of it’s three legs as you thrust your arms protectively around it’s perimeter.

     “hey, no worries, i won’t tattle on ya. you might be awful at pickin clearings, but as a _constellation_ prize, i promise i won’t press any charges.”

     You relaxed a bit, and couldn’t help smirking at the awful pun. “Oh. Thank you. I am… I’m still sorry, though. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

     “it’s a forest. be- _leaf_ me, none of us on this side o’ the fence would mind.”

     That statement made you pause. You’d been under the impression that the quarantined area was as much for the monster’s privacy as it was a token by the government that they had things under control. But the casual comment made it sound more like a quarantine. Or a camp.

     Maybe the monster sensed that you were about to ask more about that worrisome thought, because he changed the topic quickly.

     “ ‘sides, i haven’t been able to get my telescope up here yet, and i’d be willing to consider you truly repentant if ya were willing to share a minute or two.”

     Another space junkie?

     “Yeah! Yeah, totally, come on over!” As the monster trudged over, sticks and leaves rattling under his feet, you wondered if you were maybe a bit too excited, but were already caught up in the possibility of someone to talk to about the novelty of stars and galaxies. “There’s some really great sights out this week! Uh, hold on, you should be able to see Venus… lemme get some coordinates…”

     You pulled out your phone and delved into the internet, intent on finding something cool to share as you moved aside to let your new acquaintance peer through the lens. It was slow going, considering how little service you had in the middle of nowhere, but you were determined. The little circle icon clicked around at a snail’s pace, and in the silence panic began to grip you. Were you being boring? Was this awful? Oh, geez, your first time meeting a monster and you were already going to blow it…

     You heard a light laugh. “wow…” He sounded almost reverent. “i just… i imagined this bein’ nice, but…” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him move an arm to his face. Was he… crying?

     Suddenly it hit you. You realized what a huge moment this could be for a monster who had lived their entire life cut off from the sky. For someone who obviously had a love for the stars but could never experience their glow. You felt your heart jump, reverence for the moment striking you as well.

     The light of your phone glared at you, the coordinates for Venus on the screen seeming less important. Looking up, you saw the monster a bit clearer as the artificial light shone. The sleeve of his blue jacket was indeed being used to wipe away at a face under his hood, and he laughed again.

     “heh. sorry. _s’not_ like me _tibia_ crybaby.”

     You laughed back. Man, this guy was full of puns. It brought a lightheartedness to the situation that you enjoyed and appreciated, but at that last pun, you couldn’t help but feel like there was something you were missing. “Um… wait, ‘tibia’?”

     “…ya didn’t notice, kid?” The sleeve dropped from the monster’s hood as he spoke, and while the casual tone was back, you sensed a little sadness as well. “i am a _bone_ -ified monster, after all.”

     Then you spotted the hand.

     Metacarpals shone eerily in the blue light leading on to phalanges, all of which were swiftly tucked away into a front pocket. No skin. No muscle. Turning to face you (and conveniently taking half a step back as he did) you got your first really good look at the monster.

     White teeth grinned at you, set in an upward grimace. Cheekbones caught the light of your phone and cast shadows upward, framing the eyes. No, eye sockets. Two pockets of black, echoing backwards, in which two dots of white stared back at you.

     Your new space junkie friend was a living skeleton. An actual walking pile of bones.

     The silence was thick. The longer it lasted and you stumbled with your thoughts, the more resigned those pricks of white light looked.

     “Oh.” You looked down and saw he was wearing shorts, two bones sticking out from each leg as ankle bones tucked away into slippers. “Tibia. I get it.” You cleared your throat. “I bet you’ve used that one a _skele-ton_.”

     For just a moment you were terrified as the silence stretched farther. Had you just crossed some kind of social boundary? Was it ok for him to make those kinds of jokes, but not you?

     Then for the first time, you heard a true, deep laugh burst forth from the monster and relief spread across his face.

     “yeah, pal… yeah, i have.”

 

     Thinking back on that night as “Missed Call: Mom” shone at you gave you a mix of emotions. You and you mom had a healthy relationship. She was just worried about you, and you really hated keeping things from her. It would be so much easier to just tell her the truth. But at the end of the night of stargazing with the skeleton who had introduced himself as Sans, you’d offered your telescope to him. It wasn’t like it was a really expensive one, and besides, it just seemed right to do. It was the sort of thing your mother had raised you to do.

     “nah,” he’d said, “don’t wanna get you in trouble or nothin. how about same time next week?”

     That had of course reinforced the creeping suspicion you’d gained earlier about the treatment the monsters were receiving, but you didn’t press the subject, agreeing to come back next Thursday night.

     You trusted this goober of a monster you’d met, with his white-dot eyes and endless stream of puns and love of all things outer space. Maybe you were a little desperate for a space-pal, but you sensed he was honestly a good guy.

     But your mother trusted you. You had told her all your secrets for as long as you could remember, and she had always been there for you. Through every breakup, every bad day, every bully on the bus. She had always known everything in your life, and she had always taken it in stride.

     But this magic and monsters thing seemed to have frazzled her. It was hard enough on her that her child had left the nest, but then to have this happen as well seemed to have thrown her stress levels into overdrive. As much as it pained you not to tell her, you had the strong feeling that it would only cause her to beg you to consider coming home. And returning to your hometown was not something you had planned for your future, at least not so soon.

     But she would just keep calling. And your guilt would keep gnawing at you. You had to call her back and tell her that her little girl was safe and monster-free.

     You took a deep breath. You picked up the phone. And you plastered on a smile as you prepared to lie to your mother again.

     And at the same time you were preparing your speech, (“No, mom, of course I haven’t seen a monster, if I saw one I’d be extra careful, of course”) in the back of your mind, you were wondering if skeletons preferred to sip hot cocoa or apple cider while they gazed at stars in the woods.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if only you knew that skeletons, short ones in particular, really prefer ketchup! You'll probably figure that out at some point.
> 
> The lengths of these chapters really have no rhyme or reason, it seems. I do prefer the long ones, but sometimes the breaks just don't line up well enough to make longer ones. But I will do my best to make them all about this length!
> 
> A little touch of plot has emerged! Oooooooh...


	5. Evening Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a baby chapter, and right after I said I'd make em longer, too! Ah, well, next chapter is almost finished and decent sized, and it's going up tomorrow! I really like this Fri/Sat schedule. Think I'll keep it!
> 
> This chapter you're getting more invested in your skele-buddy. Ooooooh....

**Chapter 5**

     “so,” he asked, grabbing a corner of the blanket you were trying to fold, “since you took this get-together so sirius-ly, should i bring anything next time?”

     You laughed, blushing. You had taken this a little far. Two folding chairs, two blankets, a thermos of hot cocoa and another of hot cider, and a print out for the coordinates of all the heavenly objects that night. Did skeletons use blankets? Or drink cider, or cocoa? You still weren’t sure. Sans seemed to take the blanket you offered him out of kindness, and you hadn’t seen him take a single sip of the cider he’d held. As he’d handed the thermos back to you to put in your bag, however, you noticed it was at least somehow empty. Really, even the print-out had been a bit of a gamble. Monsters spoke English, apparently, but that didn’t mean they read it. But you had decided that at least you could, so it didn’t really matter as long as you were able to find in the sky what you wanted to find. That particular mystery had been quickly dispelled at least, as Sans read over it happily, mentioning that it was nice to have current reading for once. (Apparently things like old magazines fell into the Underground all the time, but it took a long time to get there.) Despite your over-exuberance, you’d had a great time. Most of your communication had been at volumes that could be described as murmurs better than anything else, partially out of contentment at the stillness of the night and partially because in the back of your mind, you still remembered you could get in huge trouble for this. More importantly, Sans could.

     “Sure," you began, searching for a pun.  "Next time... you planet.”

     He and you each held two corners and were reaching for the newly made fold as you cracked the returning pun. Once you both held it securely, you took a step forward. Sans stayed right where he was, and you rolled your eyes as you crossed the whole distance to match up fold to fold and corners to corners.

     Your hands grazed his. A weird pressure swelled out from your chest against your sternum, making your heart beat a bit faster. It must have been from the unusual feeling of bone on skin. Or maybe a touch of his magic. Monsters had that, right? Your hands stumbled. If he noticed anything, he graciously ignored it and caught the corner you had dropped, adding it back to the others in your grip.

     He smirked, continuing the conversation as you finished folding. “heh, ok. no problem. if you can bring a blanket again, i can cover the rest.”

     “…Sans, was ‘cover’ a bedding pun?”

     “buddy, I’ve told almost a dozen puns tonight i thought might slip past you. but no pun in-ten-did.”

     You laughed so hard you had to hide your snort.

     “Ok, I’m bringing the blanket next week. And the telescope, of course.” Suddenly you felt guilty. You had to bring the telescope… because he couldn’t keep anything. It was probably hard for him to find access to things, unless he dragged said things all the way back from the Underground. And here you were, acting like it was no big deal to hand over that sort of expectation. “You… you don’t actually have to do anything next week, I was really just teasing. I can bring anything else you’d like.”

     “nah, really kid, i got it. trust me, you’ll like it.”

     You chuckled. Whatever. If he really wanted to, you could deal with whatever antics he came up with. Honestly, now that you thought about it, you really should expect him to just be sitting there in the grass next week, waking up from a nap to greet you, holding a half-empty bag of chips or something. And really, you wouldn’t mind.

     You said goodbye and took off, shifting your backpack and the telescope case so the weight felt more even. This trip had only happened twice so far, but it felt like the most important event in your schedule, like you would be lost on Thursday nights without a skeleton and a telescope in a little clearing. You were astounded that, though you had just met Sans a week ago, you felt so connected to him. It was like you’d been friends for a long time already. Long enough to really know each other. Like things could move to another level…

     You shook your head. Wow, you were freaking yourself out. New level of creepy. Way to go, you. A monster? A skeleton? Oh heavens, you were not going to develop even twinges of feelings like that for a skeleton monster who told bad puns and wore an old zip up hoodie and pink slippers and could chat about stars for hours, and who didn’t care that you were awkward sometimes and—

     Nope. Nope, it wasn’t happening.

     Man you needed some sleep.

     Yeah, that was it. You just needed some sleep.

     No way you’d ever feel like that about Sans the Skeleton.

     …Right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Teacher voice* Well, that was an excellent effort, but I'm afraid the correct answer is... WRONG!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh you have no idea yet. Not a clue. Skelly is gonna be a big part of your life, kiddo. Somebody's in denial......
> 
> Dang it is so flippin short. But I didn't want to reveal other happenings yet, and I really wanted this cute little moment to happen, to let you and Sans develop that relationship a bit more.
> 
> Your next Thursday chat will be a little more serious, cause in the next few chapters you're gonna make a new friend! Yay you!! ....Probably! And that talk should be about three chapters from now. You gots some serious work to do.


	6. Slow Rotation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some introspection! You know some peeps with real problems; what're you gonna do about it?

 

**Chapter 6**

     Work was vaguely depressing.

     Your makeup job was pretty good, but nothing, not even your masterful contouring, could hide the swollen mass of flesh that was the left side of your face. Even a week and a half after the run-in with the pole, you still looked pretty disproportionate. As customers walked into the little store on that lovely Sunday afternoon, you would welcome them and ask if they had an appointment with one of the massage therapists, and they in turn would take a good three seconds to squint at your cheek before replying. Some even asked if you were ok, which brought all of the embarrassment back. You couldn’t help but think that Sans had never said a word about it.

     While it was great that your boss had initially covered for you to let you recuperate from your encounter with the pole without giving you a hard time about it, there were a few other workers that had left town for the week, and their shifts now needed to be covered by someone. Everyone talked about how those who left were worried the monsters were going to come down and cause mass chaos, leaving the town in ruins in their wake, and while you rolled your eyes, you couldn’t blame them for being scared. There was something new and terrifying happening in their own backyards. Something like that would understandably cause people to panic.

     All things considered, you were glad when your replacement showed up and you got to leave for the day. Filling Jessie in on all the appointments in session, the notes from the day that were important, and grabbing your bag, you opened the door and took in a deep breath of evening freedom. Ah, spring. You were glad you lived only a few miles away; walking home in this weather would be spectacular.

     Two blocks later, it was pouring rain. Ah, spring, indeed.

     You did your best to shield your bag from the rain; you had books and papers inside. Grumbling and looking like a lab assistant to a mad scientist in an old black and white film, you pushed yourself forward with the thought that as soon as you got home, you would make a nice cup of hot cocoa, curl up in a blanket, and watch some cartoons. Thunder sounded loudly through the air, and you caught a glimpse of light out of the corner of your vision, from the direction of Mt. Ebbot. You wondered how it was up on the mountainside in this weather; if the little makeshift homes the monsters had been given had heaters, or decent roofs, or proper windows. Or lightening rods. Sans hadn’t asked anything personal about your life, so you had been careful not to ask too much about his, especially the current conditions as that seemed to be a topic he kept a wide berth around, but you got the impression it wasn’t anything special, to say the least. He didn’t seem to want you to worry. But now, looking at the mountain, you forgot about the papers in your purse. What if, right now, Sans was trying to patch a hole in the roof as rain dripped into his home?

     No, you knew better than that. Sans had told you all about his brother Papyrus; one of the few things about his life he would talk openly about that you’d discovered. Papyrus, who sounded like a hard worker and an absolute sweetheart, would be the one running around, telling Sans to get a bucket or a towel or to get under a blanket because it’s freezing. And Sans would be cracking jokes to rile up his brother. “water you worried about, bro?” “that’s an en-lightening idea.” “too many puns? sorry, pap, i’ll rain myself in.”

     A car honked at you as you tried to cross the road, not noticing the lit-up orange hand on the pole across the street warning you to stop. Oh, man. Here you were, day dreaming about Sans and his home life. How ridiculous were you? It was none of your business, and it wasn’t like you could do anything about it, anyways.

     The rain seemed to come down harder as the orange hand turned into a little white walking figure. You had to hop over the gutter (they were huge in this little town; apparently they used to be used for water shares, and had remained that deep after the practice ended) which was practically overflowing. Another bolt hit near the mountain, and you tried your best to keep your mind off of where it might have landed.

     They were fine. You didn’t need to worry. They were monsters, with magic, supposedly. They could take care of themselves. Sans didn’t need little old you worrying about him. You just needed to go home and sip your hot cocoa.

     Still, you couldn’t help a little voice in the back of your mind: It would be so much better to know if they were ok. It would be great to have some sort of communication with the monsters, some way of knowing they were alright. Maybe if things weren’t so good and people saw it, there would be others who wanted them to be safe and well treated. It could open up new opportunities to see what they had to offer the human race, to get a second chance at an introduction to the world that the government had so quickly put out of the question. As with the sentiment of those who had left town on “vacation,” however, you couldn’t blame them for acting so harshly. People had gained abilities that threatened everyone around them, and to attribute that to the emergence of the monsters was a threatening concept. You remembered some of the reports you had read: One woman made stone-breaking impacts with her voice alone; another young boy had been able to summon fire and had almost burned his whole neighborhood down; a teenage girl had fired light-like strings from her hands, and could limit an object’s movement to the paths she created. And then there was your neighbor, Jared. He apparently had shot out some sort of blue rectangular objects that injured anything it touched that wasn’t stationary. A very different description than you had originally been given that evening, but, according to talk around the town, much more accurate. Funny how things can seem different in the heat of the moment.

     Finally in front of your home, you glanced Jared’s door. It had been rehinged, and looked deceivingly average, as though a great, happy, sweet guy hadn’t been sitting inside studying for his tests almost two weeks ago as a wave of magic came along and changed his entire life. Maybe you should try to figure out what happened to him, where he was. It had been long enough that you should have heard by now, right? There had to be something you could do for him, too.

     Careful to avoid the pole (your now arch-nemesis, you had decided) you took out your keys and unlocked the door. Two new friends, two different problems. But both important to you.

     Deciding to make vanilla milk rather than cocoa, you grabbed a milk carton from the fridge and poured it into a pot, adding a few teaspoons of sugar and a drop or two of vanilla extract. This was a problem that called for something a little special.

     Stirring the heating milk carefully so as not to let it scald, you rolled the issues around in your mind. Maybe there was some way to connect the two problems. Monsters knew magic; maybe they could help humans figure it out? Maybe they could teach humans what they knew about it, at least. Or maybe they already were. You reminded yourself that you had no idea what was going on inside the designated monster zone, other than Sans had enough freedom he could see you at night once a week. Maybe you were thinking about this too hard. People were taking care of these things, right?

     Confidence dropping, you pulled the pot off the hot burner and to another, grabbing the ladle to pour some milk into your favorite mug. (It was a large off-white colored one with dark blue wording that read “I saw that. –Karma”) You tried to convince yourself not to worry about it.

     You pushed it to the back of your mind as you sipped from your mug, as you watched your favorite show, as you ate a dinner of leftovers, as you changed into your pajamas, and as you climbed into bed early for the night. But as you tried to fall asleep, it crept back to the front, banging on your conscience. You wished that everything would be alright so badly, that there was proof you weren’t the only one who cared. There had to be other people who wondered about the treatment of the monsters, right? And surely there were family members and friends of Jared and others who wanted to know what was happening with the magic-infused people, if they didn’t already know.

     That’s what you would do. Tomorrow you would reach out to others, try and find someone who felt the same as you. Surely with more people working on the issues, you could get some results, and help your friends.

     Yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow, things would start to look better, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the powers I mentioned that people gained are patterned after different monsters; can you guess which are which?
> 
> My brother, after facing Sans in he genocide route over and over, gave up for the day and we went shopping. Guess what he found? Yup; the same mug in this chapter. Best. Mug. Ever. Also, that vanilla milk is something a friend taught me, although most of the time I'm lazy and just warm it up in the microwave. For sure one of my favorite treats.
> 
> Next chapter we meet that new friend! Are you excited!?


	7. Some Stars Don't Wanna Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you attend a rally and avoid the media as best you possibly can. Good luck!

**Chapter 7**   

     The banging on your front door the next day woke you up from a lovely dream you were having; Sans had been showing you around the Underground, and stars had been following you like night lights. It’d been beautiful, and Sans had been reciting facts happily like he did when you talked about space and it’s wonders on your Thursday nights, although you were pretty sure your subconscious had started making up facts somewhere around “unicorn belly rubs are fueled by supernova flares arching around neptune”. Groggily you sat up, squinting irritatedly into the sunlight peeking in through the blinds, another knock on the door making you cringe. Who would be at your door early Tuesday morning?

     You glanced at your phone. 10:00. Ok, late Tuesday morning.

     Still grumbling, you threw on a t-shirt and pants and made your way to the door, yanking it open mid-knock.

     “H’llo?” you breathed, trying to sound as awake as possible as you stretched a smile across your face, as though pillow creases didn’t still adorn your cheek.

     “Hi!” It was a girl about your age, and she looked much more awake than you, to say the least and was completely unfazed by your ragged appearance. She practically bounced as she stood there next to your arch nemesis, The Pole, and her arms were full of flyers. One was suddenly pushed into your unsuspecting hand. “We’re here going around your neighborhood today looking for anyone willing to come to a rally later tonight at the base of Mt. Ebott! Those poor creatures quarantined up there should be more visible to the public eye, and just like any group of refugees, should be allowed access to basic needs by non-profit groups looking to help them and make sure their standard of living is acceptable. And we as a community-- no, as humanity deserve to have confirmation that such care is being given them!”

     You looked at the flyer as she peppered the air with more phrases that made you positive she had devoted her life to being a social justice warrior. It was a drawing (a pretty decent one) of what looked like a human and a monster with arms over each others shoulders, each with a thumbs-up, and the basic information for the rally above.

     “Wait,” you interrupted, “you’re wanting to gain access to the Designated Monster Area?”

     “We call it the DeMo Area for short! We feel that it can become a trial area for monster/human interaction, a chance to prove our compatibility as living beings to the world and grow our cultural understandings of each other. We don’t necessarily care if we personally are given access to it immediately, but we are lobbying in that direction, starting with media access and non-profit access. We’ve talked with heads of news stations and refugee support programs and already have a lot of support behind us!”

     Your mouth gaped open. Things were rolling! Things were looking up! This sounded so organized and thought-through. In a million years you were sure you couldn’t have made this much progress on your own determination; thank goodness there were others with the knowledge and gumption such a task deserved. You couldn’t wait to tell Sans about it.

     “This, this is so great,” you said, wearing a huge smile. “You guys are exactly what I was hoping for!”

     “Ah… you’ll come to the rally, then?” She didn’t seem to be expecting that reaction. You wondered what kind of reactions she had been getting.

     “Yeah. Yeah, expect me there.” You held on tightly to the flyer, as though it were a vital piece of your future.

     “Great! I’ll be watching for you! If you have any questions, we’ve got a website up. Have a great day!” And off she bounced.

     It only occurred to you as she was leaving that you hadn’t caught her name, but as she was already halfway down your walkway, you just awkwardly shut the door.

     A rally for the monsters, on the two week anniversary of their emergence from the Underground. It seemed fitting, if not a little later than you’d like it to be.

     But who were you to complain? It was happening!

     You went to your bedroom to get ready for the day; work was in an hour and a half (drat, why did you have to sleep in so late?) and if you were going to get through your morning routine, you’d have to kick it into high gear. But the promise of a rally at the DeMo Area later that evening was all the push you needed. Things really were looking up.

 

     You were an absolute idiot.

     How could you have not realized there would be media here? Cameras, vans, and people in business formal holding microphones littered the area of the rally. Darn it. Darn darn darn.  This road was near the outskirts of town, but it was a fairly well used route, and this time of day there was enough traffic that you'd figured getting local attention was the main purpose of the gathering.  But news media... you felt yourself shrinking.  Maybe you were just being silly.  You'd told yourself that a few times after moving to the small town and taking a simple job, but being that far out of the limelight had relieved your anxiety and helped you put the embarrassing past in the past.  There were plenty of supporters there (you were happy to see that, despite your worries that morning) so there were loads of others for them to aim their cameras towards and for you to hide behind, but… you really didn’t like this.

     Maybe you could just turn around now. Walk back down the road and around the corner before anyone was any the wiser. Then there was no way he’d ever—

     “HEY!!”

     Darn it.

     Racing towards you was the girl from this morning, ponytail flipping along behind her like… honestly, like a pony’s tail.

     “Omigosh I am so glad you made it! I realized that I was so incredibly rude this morning, I never even introduced myself did I? I am Cindy, and it is super to see you here!”

     Stuttering, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. “Um… So, I didn’t realize there’d be so much…”

     “Support? Oh, we’re a strong group! Like I said, we have people from all sorts of organizations supporting us! It’s a really worthy cause!”

     You nodded your head and waved your hands. “Yeah, it’s—it’s really great! But, what I meant was… there’s lots of cameras. And I, uh…”

     “Oh! I understand. You’re camera-shy! That’s no problem, I can help with that!” Cindy smiled excitedly and ushered you to follow her as she jogged off. Still in a bit of shock, you followed.

     “This,” she said as you reached a booth at the edge of the crowd, “is our water station! You can be here and make sure everyone stays good and hydrated. And if you feel like any cameras are pointing your way, it comes with this handy umbrella to block the sunlight as well as the spotlight!” She giggled at herself, then turned to a figure currently engulfed by the overly-large umbrella. “I have got good news for you Stan! There’s someone else willing to man the water booth!”

     In an instant the umbrella was whisked away, and a man with a dot of sunscreen not quite smeared into his cheek appeared. “Really?!” He grabbed at a piece of posterboard. As he lifted it you could see the words “LET FURRIES FIND LOVE” with a drawn tiger-man and a human figure holding hands with hearts in place of their eyes. “I stayed up all night working on this, the world is gonna see it!!”

     “Wait, Stan we have a designated— Stan!! Oh, have fun, thanks for coming! STAN!!” Cindy switched gears so quickly between happily saying goodbye to you and stampeding after Stan that you didn’t really get to say your own thanks. Stan was already in front of a camera though, so you didn’t distract her from her current objective. You weren’t sure you could have, anyway.

     Sitting in the lawn chair Stan had previously been occupying and picking up your defensive weapon, the umbrella, you took inventory of what the booth had to offer. Not only were there two giant coolers full of water bottles, but there were snacks and a pretty well stocked first aid kit, too. Not bad. Was Cindy the one in charge of organizing all this? She had to have at least some authority in the organization, enough that she could dictate that you could take Stan’s place. You looked over at the waving signs and exuberant expressions. You’d never been to a “rally” before. Was this regular to have so many people and media coverage?

     It was fine, great in fact, as long as that coverage stayed far away from you. You tilted the umbrella a little more, blocking less sun but more cameras. It did help you feel a bit better. Cindy might be way too bubbly for you to keep up with, but she seemed like a good person, and a great friend. If others in the group were like her, it made sense that the cause had gained this much attention already.

     For the next hour you watched as the news teams interviewed, packed up, and mostly headed out, but everyone else stayed right where they were. This party wasn’t ending till the sun went down. You were fine with that; this was much more fun than puttering around the house, cleaning or watching Netflix. Most of the group had come to get water once already, and you’d met a few friendly faces that had been willing to stop and chat a while. People had all sorts of reasons for being at the rally:

     “It’s the Christian thing to do, y’know?”

     “With everything we’ve done to hurt this planet, we’ve got no right to say it’s only ours.”

     “My mom’s a hippie. She made me come hang out. You got any food?”

     “I’ve still got at least five hours of public involvement to do for my class.”

     “It’s great to be out among good people working towards something together, isn’t it? This is for, uh… dogs or something, right?”

     Everyone was grateful for the water and the chance to lean on something for a while before going back out to join the crowd. There were only a few cameras left, and none of them were on anymore... but there would be no point in going to join the crowd now. You were helping just fine, after all. One lady had helped you hand out waters when the booth had gotten a bit crowed and even tipped the remains of one cooler into the other ("It should keep cool a bit longer with less air space," she'd insisted) but she’d been happy to rejoin everyone once it died down. If you didn’t man the booth, you were sure no one else would be thrilled about taking up the job. That was a decent contribution in itself, right?

     The movement in the crowd caught your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. Or rather, the lack of movement. On the far side of the crowd, a truck had stopped on the side of the road, and someone had gotten out. That someone was yelling, and people in the crowd were starting to yell back. You heard doors shut, like more people had gotten out of the truck. Darn it, what was going on? You spotted Cindy’s ponytail bouncing through the crowd towards the newcomers (huh, she was pretty tall; you hadn’t noticed that before) and stop in front of them.

     You felt the change in the air as much as heard it in the crowd: Panic.

     Something huge, the size of a child and the color of a sunflower, was hurled into the middle of the group, trailing smoke as it went. The yelling from moments earlier changed into screaming and coughing and the white smoke billowed out from the crowd. Diving for the first aid kit and keeping your eyes on the deteriorating scene before you, you felt adrenaline rush into your veins. What was going on?! How dare someone attack a peaceful protest like this?! And what was that thing they’d thrown? You were upwind from the smoke (bad planning on the attackers part, that meant they were downwind, dummies) but could see people rubbing desperately at their eyes. Tear gas, then? You felt a pain in your chest. How could people be so misguided and cruel?

     As you watched, ripping open the first aid kit, you noticed the protesters were scrambling, but not all in the direction they logically should be. Some, instead of running from the smoke, seemed to be chasing after it. Whatever that yellow center was, though, it seemed pretty slippery. It was avoiding everyone as best it could, trying to get out of the crowd. In fact…

     That ball of white smoke seemed to have decided on a very clear direction.

     It was headed straight for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, you were just supposed to meet Cindy this chapter. Stan wasn't even supposed to exist. But then he popped into existence and started going off about how much time he put into his sign and how far he'd driven to give support to this group, and absolutely refused to leave until I let him in the rally. I have a feeling he's gonna be a thorn in my side...


	8. Burning Balls of Gas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will make you cry. Like, from the tear gas. Not from super sad stuff, no worries. Ok, there's a little sad stuff, but it probably won't cause tears. Just the tear gas.

** Chapter 8 **

     Oh heavens, why did you always attract trouble?

     The ball of yellow trailing white smoke was barreling towards your booth at top speed and you felt frozen. You started creating a list of options: What way could you jump to best avoid it? Left. If it was alive and attacked, what weapons did you have? You’d conveniently already grabbed the first aid kit scissors. If you got horribly injured, did you have you ID on you? Well, in your purse, but that was close by. Did you have your medical insurance figured out yet? Yes. Mostly. Probably.

     In the middle of your brain’s panic-mode of trying to decide the best way to phrase “I got exploded in the face by a flying tear gas canister at a monster support protest” to your mother, something caught your eye. Feet. Very fast little feet.

     Through the smoke, you saw feet, running as hard as they could from everything. Also a tail, whipping back and forth, and a snout as well.

     That yellow thing was a monster. A monster that some horrible excuse for a human being had duct taped a tear gas canister to.

     You had never felt so angry in your life.

     New plan.

     The little monster kid continued to push his way forward, eyes tight shut as tears streamed along the sides of his face. You grabbed the umbrella and, as the kid got close, the gas already affecting your own vision, used it to scoop him up. Wrapping your left arm tight around the wriggling yellow monster and kicking open a cooler, you dunked him inside what was now mostly icy water and used your left hand to feel around for where duct tape met canister. Then, cutting away the canister with the scissors in your right hand, you pulled the kid back out of the cooler and slammed the lid down shut, sitting on it for good measure.

     You heard a terrified “Wow, thanks for, uh… thanks,” but it hardly registered with you. Smoke was still leaking from the edges of the cooler, although much less that what had been before you shut it. Maybe there was tape in the first aid kit, you were pretty sure you’d seen some…

     But before you could stumble blindly towards where you’d thrown the kit, someone grabbed your shoulders. “Dude! What was that, that was awesome! You just saved that thing, and— and— wow, I mean, wow!”

     You couldn't see anything but fuzzy shapes when you opened your eyes to see who it was, but it sounded like Stan, the man with the Furries sign. He’d been kind (if a little over exuberant) when he’d come over to get water earlier, introducing himself more formally and showing you how he had sneakily taped his poster to the back of the more “official” one Cindy had given him. The official one said something a little smoother, “Share Love With Everyone On Earth”, but he insisted his grabbed attention much better.

     Remembering the conversation caused you to chuckled a bit. “Th-thanks.” You were both coughing, and someone with a commanding voice was telling you to go with Stan off to the side. “I was gonna just dodge, but I thought that’d be… cooler.”

     No one laughed. Ah, well. Wrong crowd.

     There were several people around you; you could at least see figures through your swollen eyes. You heard Cindy’s voice and Stan still close by, but as you squinted… no little monster kid.

     “Hey, where did that kid go? Where is he?!” You felt a little panic; he was in serious need of help. He’d had that canister spewing right next to his face and was probably basically blind right now. Who knew how that stuff would really affect a monster, but… he had been shutting his eyes against it. And you remembered how he’d felt when you held him tight against you; shaking like a rattled animal, fur matted and dirty, crying like a lost soul. Even if he was perfectly fine physically (which you were positive he was not) that kid was in need of some serious emotional care.

     “I think he slipped away,” Cindy said. “That poor little thing! This is the kind of thinking we need to overpower before it gets traction! How could anyone do this?!”

     “Awful!” someone shouted. More yelled, “Despicable!”   “Terrorizing maniacs!” “I can’t believe—” “ At a peace rally!” “How did they get—?” “Driving that truck—” “Just monstrous!” “Monsters!”

     “No!! They’re not monsters!” The angry murmurings died down suddenly as you spoke to the cloudy figures in your vision, imagining the people you’d just chatted with at the water booth for the past hour feeling upset enough to be caught up in fear. “They’re people. They’re grimy, close-minded people, but they’re human. I just wrestled and dunked a monster into ice water and poked a pair of scissors dangerously close to him and then tossed him to the ground. And he actually thanked me, as terrified as he was. So from my experience, those people are not monsters. They’re human, just like us. But we don’t have to be their kind of human; we all get to decide what kind of people we’re going to be. Stop worrying about who’s monsters. We just need to live like good people.”

     It was oddly quiet, other than some scattered coughing. You felt deeply and uncomfortably aware of the fact that more people than you’d initially though had been listening to what you said. Then, thankfully, more murmuring began, in more positive tones.

     “Whoa.” Stan dropped a hand onto your shoulder. “That was deep, girlfriend.”

     You blushed. “I just… I’ve put a bit of thought into it lately, I guess.”

     “Wow, I should have you help me write our flyers!” Cindy chriped.

     Another person chimed in, “I still can’t believe that awesome save!”

     “I’m totally posting this all on youtube!” someone said.

     You froze, and felt your heart drop. “Uh… post what?...”

     But the person was gone already, emergency personnel swooping in to take care of the injured. It was slightly reminiscent of two weeks ago, when ambulances lined your street. Just like then, you felt disoriented and worried about someone who wasn’t there. Jared jumped back into your mind, and you felt a twinge of worry for him, wherever he was. More pressing to you, however, was the well-being of that monster kid. How had he gotten himself tangled up in this, on the wrong side of the barrier, anyway?

     All while police got their reports and paramedics did what they could (they told everyone that it had been a homemade tear gas canister, and luckily not a very strong one, which meant their job mostly involved distributing water for everyone to wash the chemicals from their eyes) you kept watching for the kid. He was probably either long gone or had already been caught and no one wanted to tell this crowd that, because that would open a whole new can of worms. You weren’t sure which you hoped it was. But you did hope he was safe, and that you’d see him again.

     After a while you all said your goodbyes and exchanged phone numbers and promised to get together soon and all the things people who have just been attacked with tear gas strapped to a short monster normally do, and you headed out, squinting your way home.

     It was getting dark, so you were understandably startled when, on a fairly empty street with no one around you, you heard someone say, “Hey, lady.”

     You grabbed the strap of your giant purse (why had you brought the biggest bag you owned? Security, maybe?) tighter and tensed, twisting around to try and find the source of the sound.

     “You’re the umbrella lady, right?”

     It was coming from the bushes lining the edge of someone’s yard. You felt your heart jump into your throat. Did you recognize that voice?...

     As soon as you knelt down, he poked his head to the edge of the bush. “You’ll… you’ll help me right? I just wanna go home. I’m sorry I snuck out, I won’t do it again, I swear! Don’t let them take me to the lab!”

     Yup. The monster kid.

     His eyes were almost swollen shut, yellow fur and striped shirt covered in dirt and mud. Oh, the poor thing…

     Wait. Did he say a lab? One that he was scared of? What was going on behind that yellow tape?

     You made a split second decision. It was probably a stupid one. You didn’t really care.

     “Crawl in, fast. I’ll get you home, but first let’s get you to my place and patch you up, ok?” You dropped one strap of your purse to the ground, and the kid whimpered in thanks and crawled inside. Glancing around to be positive no one was really around, you stood back up with your significantly more weighted purse. Dang, this kid was heavy. But you couldn’t just leave him. You had to help.

     So now you were walking home after a pro-monster support rally, with swollen eyes (like your face needed that right now), and a monster kid in your purse who was probably going to have to spend the night at your house, considering how late it was. Possibly two, if you had to resort to taking him on your Thursday night excursion.

     Man… you had a lot to tell Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, poor Monster Kid! Those dirty jerks deserve to go to jail! (Don't worry, they were for sure arrested. I'll probably mention it next chapter, just to solidify how in jail they are, the dummies.) He would be the one to go exploring, though. Probably won't go running off to places he knew he shouldn't after this adventure! I for sure wouldn't.
> 
> Anyone know what the title is a reference to?? Only one of my favorite movie moments ever...
> 
> Monster kid in your house for like a day and two nights?! Are you gonna survive?!?!


	9. Little Hidden Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monster Kid doesn't realize he's a handful. He just... is.

** Chapter 9 **

      “I thought you might call in. I saw it on facebook this morning.” She paused, then must have decided to ask anyways. “Are you sure you can’t come in for just a few hours?”

     You tried to hold back a groan and looked around you.

     Pillow feathers were everywhere. Milk dripped from the kitchen counter top. Spaghetti sauce painted the cabinets and fridge. Magazines and books littered the floor through the apartment. And you had gotten maybe three hours of sleep, whereas the monster kid (who, funnily enough, had said you could call him MK) was finally passed out on the couch. And did she just imply she’d seen the tear gas incident on facebook?...

     “Yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I am so sorry, I don’t know how this stuff keeps happening to me, but… I really need the day.”

     Your boss was none too happy about it, but really, the work you were doing was mostly spare hours anyways for minimum wage. You had enough in the bank prior to coming here to keep you going for probably a year without having a job at all; this was just something to keep you busy, and the job had begun with that being understood between you and your boss. Even though you’d been needed more than that lately, what with everyone out of town. She said she knew of one or two people who might be able to cover, or might even get her son to watch the desk in your absence, but to call if you felt like you could in fact come in. Fat chance of that, you thought as you collapsed back into your bed. Maybe you could get some sleep while the kid slept. Just twenty minutes…

     “Miss Umbrella-Lady! Check out what I found!!”

     Something plopped onto your bed and crawled up to your face.

     A cat. He had found a cat.

     When had he been able to find a cat?! Hadn’t he been out cold on the couch three minutes ago?!

     “Uuuugh, MK… it’s a very nice cat. Let it go home, ok? I’m not supposed to have pets in here.”

     “There weren’t any cats in the Underground! There’s this girl I hear talking about wanting to pet a cat all the time! Do you think I could take the cat back with me?”

     “No, MK, the cat probably belongs to someone already. It needs to go home.”

     He wiggled his way onto the bed (come to think of it, how had a kid with no hands gotten a cat inside in the first place?) and started bouncing around, too enveloped in the fantasies in his head to hear what you were saying. “Oh, and can I take some of that spaghetti you made? Papyrus loves spaghetti, he’s the coolest! He’s so strong and awesome, and—”

     “MK— Hey… I know of Papyrus… He’s Sans’ brother, right? They’re skeletons?”

     MK’s jaw dropped open and he stopped jumping to look at you with glowing eyes. “You’ve heard of Papyrus?! Wow, he’s so cool, even humans know him!”

     The cat settled down in just the right spot that you could reach over and pet it, but the action would make you stretch a bit to do so; clearly, this cat was a pro at being a cat. You reached over anyway, letting the creature examine your hand before ok-ing it with a nonchalant nuzzle. You gave in and smiled, both at the cat and at MK’s exuberance. How was this kid still awake?

     “I’m pretty sure I’m the only human outside your home who knows about him, but he is super cool from what I’ve heard. His spaghetti is supposed to be legendary.”

     “Well… to be honest, I liked your spaghetti better. But don’t tell him I said that!”

     You laughed and promised not to tell. MK flopped down on the mattress, staring with bright eyes at the cat, who stared back intently.

     “Are all cats just black and white like this? Or are there other colors of cats? Do they come in other sizes?”

     “Um…” You were about to say they only came in regular colors, but then realized you were talking to a bright yellow monster. “They come in a few different colors, but usually more dull ones, like black, white, brown… sometimes they’re a sort of orange color, though. And the colors can be all mixed up, or just one solid color, or they can have no fur at all. Their skin is usually a light tan-pink, sometimes with darker spots. And the sizes are pretty close to this, at least for house pets. Wild cats can be huge, but you don’t wanna mess with them.”

     “Like, the size of your house?!”

     You laughed. “No, more like the size of… a bike.”

     “Oh! Well, Papyrus could take on one of those, no sweat!” Then MK went off about how cool and strong Papyrus and someone named Undyne was.

     You pretended like you were listening, but really your tired mind was wandering all over the place. Your throat still itched a bit from breathing in that gas yesterday; how long was that supposed to last? Was a video of you really up on facebook? How many people had seen it? Maybe it was just a local thing… You hoped it was just a local thing.

     You looked over at the cat that had been tossed onto your bed. It seemed to be a she, and she looked used to being around people. Probably belonged to someone. You’d let her back out in a minute.

     Her coloring, though, was very… unique, you realized, looking her over. Something about it made you feel warm and at home, like an old story you’d come to love. Mostly black, white adorned a large portion of her face, and stripes of white ran down her upper chest and sides. Spots dotted the midline of her back, all the way down to rings along her tail, and more white lines ran down the outside of her limbs to meet little white paws. It felt like a familiar structure…

     Then it hit you, and for some reason you felt your face flush red.

     It was a skeletal structure.

     Her eyes, one blue and one black, examined you as her tail twitched. And as you looked back, you realized it wasn’t just her patterning; it was her frame, as well. She looked underfed; you could see the outline of her ribs. Two plus two added up in your head. Well- behaved cat, no fleas, but not well fed… and favoring one of her back legs, too. You didn’t want to assume, but…

     There was a clause in your lease that allowed for pets, with a fee… If no signs went up about her missing, what were you to do but assume she didn’t have a home to go back to?

     No. No, you couldn’t accept a cat. But her presence seemed to calm MK down, and that was something you desperately needed right now. It couldn’t hurt for a day or so.

     “Alright, MK, here’s the deal: the cat can stay for one day if you promise me you’ll behave while I go out and get some things for her. Ok?”

     “Really?!” Alright!! Thanks, Miss Umbrella-Lady!!”

     “My name’s—” But he’d already zipped off with cat in tow, somehow balanced on his head. You waited for a crash from the other room, but instead heard soft cooing from MK as he played gently with his new pal. He was already keeping up his end of the bargain

     Well… looks like you had some shopping to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This chapter is out a ton later today than usual! Tomorrow is gonna be postponed till Monday; I'm headed on a trip to hang out with my bro! As for today being late, I apologize; I do cosplay commissions, and my 3D printer has ben temperamental all week! I've had a lot of late nights (or rather very early mornings) with it lately to make sure I get my items out within a reasonable timeframe. I love doing this stuff. But I also love sleep. It's a problem.
> 
> So, Monday! You're going shopping for cat stuff, yay! And by the time you're done, you might see a few friendly faces! One in particular who's not very happy with you....


	10. It's a Party, but you didn't Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, uh, hi, it's been a while, huh? Didn't expect to see you here... I mean, I know I'm back in the old neighborhood, but just going out shopping for fics, you don't actually expect to run into people, right?... Oh, you do, huh? Heh, well... sorrythischapterissuperlatethanksloveyoubye *zooms off without a single fic in my shopping cart oops*

**Chapter 10**

     It had taken you a lot longer than you could admit without embarrassment to find the kitty litter, and the line at the store had been uncustomarily long.  But you were relieved to be at last walking up to your home, bags full of everything you could need to care for a cat and a kid.  Everything right?... You ran down your mental list again, going slowly up your walkway as you did.  Treats for MK, food for the cat, a food bowl, brush, mouse toy, litter, a litter box…

     Wait, you’d forgot a pooper scooper!  What good was litter when you couldn’t clean it out?  Ah, well.  It wasn’t for that long.  You’d make do.

     Inwardly reprimanding yourself, you fiddled with the keys till the right one slid into the keyhole, only to find that the door was already unlocked.  Your chest tightened a little.  You’d locked it hadn’t you?  With a rush of panic-driven adrenaline, you shoved the door open.

     “MK?!  MK, where are you?”

     “In here!  We’re playing!”

     Oh thank heavens.  He wasn’t roaming the streets or kidnapped.  Just playing with the cat.  You put down the bags in the entryway and let loose a sigh of relief.

     MK raced around the corner, and you knelt down to catch him as he leapt upwards into your arms. “Sans is lame, though, he won’t play with us!”

     You froze.  “Sans… won’t play with you and the cat? Sans the skeleton?”  Sans was here?  Sans was here?!

     “Yeah, he’s being super lame and doing the dishes or something.” The kid’s nose wrinkled.  “But not the cat!  She left forever ago!  I’m playing hide and seek with your mom!”

     Sans himself could not have been more white-faced then you.  MK had to wiggle himself out of your grip, whining that he had been in the middle of searching when you’d walked in, as you reeled in thought.  MK dashed off back into the living room.

     You couldn’t go in there. You just couldn’t.  No.  This couldn’t be real.

     Turning instead into the kitchen to store away the cat food, you realized there would be no relief.  There stood Sans, wearing your frilly yellow and green apron, placing a clean mug onto your drying rack.  His smile seemed almost nonexistent, and his movements were stiff and cautious, opposite of his normal demeanor.  The apron’s frills over his blue hoodie looked even more ridiculous than the day you’d fallen in love with the silly item and made the scene even more unrealistic.

     Sans jumped at your strained laugh, but seemed to relax a little again at the sight of you. You looked at each other with mountains of mutual awkwardness growing stronger in the silence.

     “…I just bought forty dollars worth of cat supplies,” you offered.

     “hmm.”  He looked at the bag, then back at you.  “you don’t have a cat, do you.”

     “I don’t have a cat.”

     “well.  what a cat-astrophe.”

     You smirked.  The things MK had said started to formulate together in your head to create a more complete scene.

     “Sans…  First of all, what are you doing here?  Second… Have you, uh… met my mom?... Is she really here?”

     Sans chuckled and peeked over at the kitchen door behind you.  “i came t’ find mk. i saw the video— well, frisk saw the video and asked me to help out.  i figured comin to you was as good a first step as any.  by the time i got here, yer mom had already arrived an’ made friends with the kid.  apparently the video got her worried too.”

     Oh man, the video really had spread.  You felt your stomach tighten a bit; If people recognized who it was catching MK, and decided an old story deserved an update… you weren’t sure you could deal with the consequences of that.  But more immediately important was that your mom had been so stressed she had driven right over.  Maybe you should have picked up her call this morning on your way to the store.

     “And she’s… she’s cool… with all this?  No freak out or anything?”

     “mk loves her, if that means anything.  i’ve been grilled.  an’ then given a list of chores.  i might earn my whole allowance by the time i’m through.”

     No puns.  And a joke that fell very flat.  Sans was seriously shook up.  You didn’t blame him; this situation was not ideal for anyone.  Except apparently for MK, who gave a whoop of victory from the other room, followed by a cheer of approval from a very familiar voice, a sound that dusted off memories from your childhood of when you would play the very same game.  After a moment of chatter you heard silence.  Then MK came pouting into the room.

     “Your mom says she needs a break and I needa help you cuz you’re slow, Sans.  And she said to tell her pumpkin pie to come in the front room.  Who’s a pumpkin pie?”

     Sans smirked.  “I think Mrs. Pie must mean her daughter, Pumpkin.”

     MK wrinkled his nose, looking you up and down.  “You?  You don’t look like a pumpkin at all.  You’re still the ‘brella lady, ok?”

     You managed to smile back as MK pushed your stool over to the sink.  Then taking a deep breath and swallowing your anxiety, you walked into the front room.

     There were a few things out of place (magazines on the couch and pillows thrown around) but nothing like what you had left this morning.  You could imagine what had happened; you mother had come in the door to see an absolute mess, and after who knows what had occurred with her introduction to MK, had bouncily sung the “clean up song” and had MK help her tidy things up before launching into their games.

     And there she stood, staring at you with a blank slate face.

     The pause was a lot longer than you’d like.

     “Um… Hi, mom.”  No reaction. “Mom… Mom, I am so sorry—”

     And suddenly she was hugging you, holding you tight.

     “You had better be,” she cooed into you ear.

     Something within you finally gave way.  You hugged her back, shuddering as a few tears escaped.  She held you tighter.

     All the events of the past few weeks crashed through your memory.  Your collapse, Jared’s disappearance, hiding things from your mother, all the cameras around town, the whole incident with MK, the video of you going viral. It had all built up, and you needed this release.  You both just stood there for a few minutes, and when you pulled away your eyes might have been red, but your mind felt a lot lighter.

     She held your hands.  “Now it’s my turn.  Pumpkin… I am so, so sorry.  When I got in the car this morning, I was furious. But I kept thinking about how at the end of that video, the things you said… you are such a loving person.  You think so much about how to assist the people around you, and I should have known,” she paused a little, her voice shaking, “that when everyone else was scared and ready to hate the unknown, you’d reach out and offer your help and friendship.  I am so proud of you.  I am a little unhappy with _how_ you did it, but I am very proud of you for doing it.”

     Your mom… Your mom was incredible.  You could feel the tears coming on again, and weren’t quite sure what to say back.

     She smiled and raised her eyebrows, bringing a break to the mood.  “But next time you become friends with a skeleton and a little yellow monster, you have to promise to tell me _before_ I come by.”

 

     Soon the four of you were sitting in the front room, chatting and laughing as you ate the snacks you’d brought home for MK, who quickly scampered away from the boring “adult talk” and found something to play with.  Sans’ puns still weren’t quite on point, but as time progressed his wit began to quicken back up.  You were rolling your eyes for a good portion of the second half of the hour; once everyone had gotten to know each other better, your mom started telling baby stories.  Sans was crying, doubled over in his seat at one in particular that had you red in the face.

     “We didn’t get too far with it though,” your mom was saying.  “Her father was putting the dog in his kennel when she burst into tears and begged us not to punish Pluto, and that she had eaten the pie and rubbed the tin on his muzzle so she wouldn’t be the one in trouble.”

     “and—and it was—”

     “Pumpkin pie, all over the kitchen!  I remember I washed out enough pie from her hair during her bath that night to make a whole slice.  I have a picture that I took of it… Pumpkin, where is that album I made for you?”

     “I am _not_ pulling out photographic evidence of this, mother,” you moaned.

     “aw, c’mon kid!  it’d be a doggone shame for you to act all crusty.  i’m up for embarrassing pumpkin pics.”

      Your mom laughed while you tried to stare down Sans with a smile stuck on your face.  “It’s time I get back anyway.  It’s been great getting to know you, Sans.  I hope we have another chance to meet again soon.”

     “been a pleasure for me as well, m’am.” Sans stood as she stood.  Wow, was he always this polite when meeting parents? Or this nervous about meeting them? … Um, none of this was sounding the way you meant it to, even in your own head.

     Your mother seemed very impressed with his manners, at least.  She looked at you.

     “Uh— I’ll walk you to the door,” you offered.

     MK said his goodbyes and then Sans joined him in whatever game it was he’d made up out of two magazines and a pinecone while you walked with your mother.

     “I’m really sorry for everything mom, really, but… I’m also really glad you came.”  You opened the door for her and the two of you stepped out onto the porch.

     “I am too.  This seems to be… an important part of your life.”

     “Yeah, I guess it is.  I mean, I didn’t mean for it to be.  It just… sort of came to be.  And I’m glad, I’m really glad I was able to help MK.  I don’t know what would have happened otherwise.  And Sans, he’s so great to hang out with.  I was feeling a little alone in town and then I met him, and… it feels kinda like we were meant to meet.”  Back in the house, you could hear MK complaining loudly about cheating, and in your mind you could easily imagine Sans shrugging back, a poorly hidden smug grin on his face.

     “Yes.  Sans seems like a good guy.”

     You smiled back, nodding as you listened to the scene inside.

     “And also… pretty cute, for a skeleton.”

     You snapped back to the conversation, blinking at your mother.  Red rushed into your cheeks, you could feel it even as you furiously willed the color back out.  “No.  I mean, I guess maybe, but not— _mom!!_ ”  She laughed, and you put your face in your hands.  Peeking out, you whispered furiously back.  “ _He’s a skeleton mom!_ There’s not— There’s no way I—”

     “Hey, Pumpkin, all I said is that he’s cute, nothing more!  I like him, that’s all.”  She looked more serious for a second.  “And he’s really helped to change my view.  The three of you have.  If you could, tell him I’m sorry that I just immediately stuck him on kitchen duty.  I just… needed a minute to take it all in.  It was nothing personal.”

     “Yeah.  I’ll let him know.”

     You hugged one last time, wished her a safe drive, and she left. As you walked back inside, Sans was walking up to find you.  “That could’ve gone worse,” you smiled tiredly.

     “yeah.  she could’ve kicked me out and called me a freak.  whereas i am clearly… a bonehead.”  You laughed.  “yeah, that was great.  i think that’s the best it’s gone.”

     You raised an eyebrow.  “The best… what’s gone?”  Had he been meeting other humans?  Ones that had called him a freak?  Or, did he mean meeting parents in general?... Had he met a lot of people’s parents?...

     “the best, uh… meeting humans has gone.  just in general.  when we came out of the underground, most people weren’t so open minded.”

     “Oh.”  You relaxed a little, punching the thoughts your mom had brought up to the back of your head.  “That makes sense.  Except… I’m positive that’s not true.”

     Sans’ skull seemed to sweat.  “what? ‘course it is, pal.”

     “Nope.  Because it wasn’t that way when I met you.  At least I didn’t make you do my dishes.”

     Sans’ shoulders loosened the same way yours had a moment before.  “oh yeah, sure!  my mistake, meeting you was stellar.  outta this world.”

     You rolled your eyes and smirked, walking back into where MK sat.  Sans said they’d better get ready to go back, and you told MK you’d make him a snack bag to take along.  You asked Sans to help you in the kitchen, and he shrugged and followed.

     “Look, I don’t mean to pry, but… I’ve got a few questions.”

     Sans raised an “eyebrow”.  “ok, shoot.”

     “First off, when I picked up MK, he was talking about how scared he was, not of the people around, but of going to some… lab?  Is he gonna be safe back in quarantine?  Are… are any of you—?”

     Sans shook his head.  “the lab?  nah, everyone’s fine!  some monsters are freaked out by it, but it’s fine.  it’s just the only human presence in the quarantine, so there’s some suspicion about it.”

     “What— Why is there a lab in the first place?” You were obviously less than convinced.

     “it was my idea.”

     Your turn to raise an eyebrow.  “Your idea?”

     “boneheads can get those sometimes too, yeah.” He smirked at your reaction.  “i thought it’d be a good idea to share some of our knowledge with humans, so we set up a place to meet, brain to brain.  frisk did some hard negotiating to get that one to happen, but i think it’ll be worth it.  we’re workin on some big stuff. there’s some big changes comin’.”

     “Oh?  Yeah?  What kind of… big stuff?”

     Sans just put a finger up to his smile and winked.  Well, fine, big secret stuff then.

     “Alright, ok then.  Question number two then.  Sans…”  You looked at him hard.

     “…yeah pal?”

     “How did you know where I live?”

     “uh, yeah….”  The face he’d made when you’d told him you didn’t believe him a moment ago returned.  “you said you lived next to jared, that kid who got magic, right?  so i just looked there.”

     “Oh.  Ok…”

     Sans smiled and started to walk away.

     “Sans?”

     “hmm?”

     “How did you know where Jared lived?”

     The skeleton turned only his head.  Once again he put a finger to his smile and winked, then walked out of the room, calling out to MK that he’d better be ready to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I have to write the next chapter before I can read it. Crap.


	11. Cold Fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one week?? ...Is the universe collapsing?? Really, I dunno, I've been writing in my house...
> 
> This fic was supposed to be, like 70 chapters long. At least it did, back when I first started it. But I'm realizing that taking things that slowly means I would NEVER complete this fic, and I really wanna make this story complete. So... I'm skipping a lot of the slow burn bits I had planned. I'll probably add them in later, after I finish everything, but for now I want to get this fic out there! I hope you guys are cool with that... besides, it's not like I'm gonna end this in five chapters. I've still got a good fifteen or so to go! ...maybe, that's a super rough guesstimate. But plenty!
> 
> Hope you're enjoying it! If you have anyone you'd like to see show up, let me know! I had plans for nearly every character, but I can slip someone back in if it's desired!
> 
> FYI: This chapter jumps ahead a few weeks into the future! Just so it's not too confusing. Yay!

     Wow, it was cold. That was the first thought to blossom in your mind. The sensation around your feet… that was the second thought, that you had feet. Then it followed quickly and logically that you had legs, a torso, arms, a head… all of which were also cold, to varying degrees. A shiver ran along your body, and another sensation awoke: smell. You smelt dirt and distant grass, and the musk of an old wool blanket.

     You had been sleeping… With an odd dream? Your environment was becoming more clear to you, as though reality had to reweave itself after such an immersive sleep, as it sometimes feels after one experiences a dream so vivid. You tugged on the dream in your mind, like pulling a woven canvas from out of a dark movie screen. The scenes felt so real that you had felt you were truly living them, but the more you awoke, the more that surety faded. The feelings did not, however. You could still feel the ashes of martyrs coating your lungs.

     The thought was more chilling than the cold outside the woolen blanket around you, so at last you pushed it aside, letting the dream float away and trying to remember where you were and why in the world you were there rather than your warm, comfy bed. Your hand brushed something cotton rather than the wool of the blanket as you placed it to lift yourself into a sitting position, and suddenly you knew. A split second before taking in the scene around you, you remembered.

  
     The telescope had gotten knocked over in the night, whether by wind or wild animal, who knew, but everything else was as you’d left it. At least, as far as you were paying attention, which wasn’t much. You were more concerned with the feeling of cotton cloth against your hand.

  
     Sans had fallen asleep, which wasn’t uncommon. He fell asleep all the time, and while he claimed it was a regular habit he rather enjoyed, you’d noticed it more regularly the past few weeks, starting that first week you’d learned about the lab. It was obvious where the exhaustion came from; he talked more and more often about the lab, telling you how the work was going to change how humans and monsters interacted, while also being increasingly vague. You teased him about both. But last night, sitting in the lawn chair you’d become accustomed to bringing (the week he’d told you he would take care of had ended up in the culmination of your telescope, a bottle of ketchup, and a hotcat each. What even was a hotcat?), it snapped off a leg. Maybe balancing on two of the legs in a field week after week was a bad idea. Nevertheless, you had a big blanket, plenty big enough to relax on, and Sans didn’t see the point in having to sit up in a chair when you got to lay down. So there you were, stargazing the old fashioned way. He was halfway through a description of how black holes die when his words slurred, stopped, and became little snores. You just continue to lay there. The sound was cute. No, it was more than “cute”. It was like a tide, sometimes a wave coming in bigger than you expected as the water level increased. You knew you should wake him, but before drifting off, his pinky had somehow come to rest touching yours, and you had to wonder if through his half-asleep perception, he’d even realized it.

  
     It was getting late, you’d thought. You should wake Sans. You should get home. He should get home, as well… couldn’t let his wonderful sounding brother wait up for him all night, could he? Papyrus would probably be worried, and short a bedtime story…

  
     And the ground was hard. And the blanket was scratchy. And a chill was filling the air.

  
     But you didn’t move. Somehow all these thoughts drifted right through your mind, which was far more preoccupied with two fingers just barely touching.

  
     That was the last thing you could remember from the night, and you felt the heat on your face as you did. Clearing your throat and forcing some sense into your brain, you turned to the cotton lump to wake Sans.

  
     Who… wasn’t there. All that was lying next to you was his jacket. One blue empty jacket. Huh. Guess he’d gone home, then? And left his jacket for you? Which smelled of ketchup, caves, and something else you couldn’t place. Maybe it was just him, that smell that each person uniquely owns. Did monsters have that? Or maybe what you were smelling was that magic you’d heard so much about…

  
     “you should put it on. you look chilled to the bone.”

  
     You yelped, standing up and whipping around to face Sans, who somehow had once again done his favorite trick of sneaking up on you. He laughed as you punched his shoulder with a grumble. He was wearing his usual white shirt and shorts, but he had a replacement for the blue jacket you still clutched in your hand. It was a white lab coat, and it made him look more… dignified than you were used to seeing him, even accompanied by the shorts and slippers.

  
     “you were grippin’ it so tight this morning i had to ditch it to escape. got called in to work early.” He pulled a hand holding his phone out of a pocket as though to prove the point.

  
     You’d never even thought to ask him if he had a phone before. Now you felt kind of silly about it. He’d told you they had computers, anime, car magazines, why not cell phones? “Wait. So you mean we could have been texting this whole time? No more waiting out here half the time, wondering when you’re gonna show up?”

  
     He shrugged, putting it back in his pocket. “just got it recently, anyway. never been much of a phone guy. sorry ta leave ya out here alone, but… it was kinda an emergency call.”

  
     “Oh. Is everything ok? Is… is your work safe?”

  
     He didn’t answer. “...look. do you trust me? that i’m tryna do the right thing here?”

  
     “Uh… That question never leads anywhere good. But,” you added, seeing his expression, “yes, I… I do.”

  
     “then i need ya to do somethin’ for me.” He reached into a different pocket and pulled out a small hard drive. “i need you to get this into as many hands as possible. but more importantly, i need you to do it in a way where you’re protected. got that? so that no one can trace it back to you.”

  
     “...Whoa.” Hesitantly, you took the hard drive from him, then squinted your eyes. “Sans. You tell me the truth, right now. Is this a prank?”

  
     He grinned. “wish it was, buddy. that sounds way more fun. look, the last thing i wanted to do was dump this on you. to be honest, i’d rather have you as far from this as possible… but that obviously ain’t gonna happen, no matter how hard i try. a couple words of warning: don’t let anybody open it on a connected computer till the word’s out. don’t tell them where you got it. and again, don’t let your name get connected to it.”

  
     “Ok, yeah. Wow. I got it. I… know someone who can get this where it needs to go. But, to convince them to do something with it, I’m gonna need more to go off. What is on this hard drive, Sans?”

  
     Pink slippers shuffled in the grass. “you gotta promise me somethin’ first. i already asked you to trust me, but… there’s one thing that would be way worse.”

  
     Something in the way he said it, the way his voice lowered, told you that there was more behind his words than he would say. You felt that odd gripping of your heart again that you were so used to ignoring these days.

  
     “Ok, anything. What is it?”

  
     He looked at the sky, as though despite the morning light, he could still see the stars, as though he were nonchalantly petitioning them for mercy.

  
     “promise. that you’ll try and forgive me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moley what is on that hard drive, Sans. What creep-ity creepings have you been up to in that lab??


	12. Satellite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeck yeeeah, I am on a roll right now with these!! Plus I've gotten so many other chapters 90% written. Wow. Who even am I.
> 
> Ready for a field trip? You're gonna go on one whether you like it or not. And trust me, it's "not".

  **Chapter 12**

    “Welcome back to Channel Nine News.  Our breaking story tonight answers questions people across the world have been asking for quite some time now.  While we have been told by family and friends of humanity’s newest magic users that they had contact with their loved ones, we now know where those affected by the monster arrival have been, their status, and what those who have been watching over them plan to do next!”

    “That’s right, Julie, our initial count of those affected by magic it seems were misleading, as the facility of dorms provided for them holds only twenty or so Magic Affected Persons, or M.A.P.s for short, as they’re called in reports containing their conditions and unique traits.”

    “Yes, and we are happy to say those reports all confirm that the residents are happy, healthy, and well provided for!”

    “Let’s go now to Mark, live on the scene at Mt. Ebbot itself.  Mark?”

 

    The window on your computer screen changed from a view of inside the studio to an evening sunset on a mountainside, the little monster zone seen in the distance.  Mark began talking about how there have been hesitations trusting monsters, but with these reports showing how helpful they’ve been, blah blah blah...

    You sighed and turned back to your old laptop.  It wasn’t as nice as the one you had used for the past few months, but this one you had built yourself, back in your early teens, back when you started teaching yourself the ins and outs of how coding and the internet really worked.  It was old, no longer connected to wifi, and was fine to burn if you needed to, you’d decided.  You’d downloaded the files onto it and sorted out the ones to give to the news corporation, just like Sans had directed.

    “it’s uh, just a mess of all my notes,” he’d said, only his eyes revealing his anxiety.  “i didn’t have a lot of time before they were peerin’ over my shoulder again.  so, i need to come clean and tell you.  much better that, than you just stumblin’ across yer name, right?”

    When he told you, it was like an old wound had been ripped back open.  Like a home you had been trying to rebuild collapsed over your head.  Now, remembering, you felt pressure at your sternum as you did so often lately, but ever since this morning that feeling had changed from what it usually was.  It wasn’t bursting outward.  It was like a miniature implosion, trying to drop you into a pinpointed emptiness.  Ignore it, ignore the files with your name.  Ignore that whole other project folder.

    The door clicked open behind you and you straightened up, forcing the threatening tears to retreat.

    “Ssssooooo….”  Oh, for heaven’s sake.

    The door to the room you’d been given to work in privately shut behind the man who’d spoken.  You began praying for patience.

    “Since you’re back in town, how about we make good use of the rest of your time in the city?  We could meet at your favorite restaurant, I’ve still got that sweet private table on reserva--”

    You took a deep steadying breath, shutting your laptop.  “You know what, that sounds great, but I’ve already got stabbing myself in the eye with a spoon on the schedule tonight, so I can’t make it.  This is exactly why I didn’t want to come home,” you added under your breath.  Strength, you mentally coached yourself.  Draw on your anger for strength.

    “C’mon, babe.  I got you in here, right? Anonymous and in the news station, just like you asked.  You knew you could trust me to help out, that’s why you turned to--”

    “No, I came to you because your publicist has connections and is good at manipulating information, as we both know.  And because you owe me one.  No, so much more than this one.  You owe me one for even coming to you to cash in on one.”

    “Babe.  It’s our town!  This is your hometown!  The big, bright, spectacular city!  People would be so ecstatic to see you back.  They loved you!”

      You put a hand on your cheek like a sweet little girl from an anime and turned to face the stubble-faced, square-jawed idiot.  “Wow... you know what, you’re right.  They did love me, didn’t they?  Oh, wait, but _guess who didn’t_?”  You let your chair turn back slowly to your screen.

    “C’mon.  That’s cruel.  You know I had feelings for you.”

    You pointedly ignored him.

    After a minute of silence, he released a sigh that sounded more like a groan and slumped into a desk chair.  “We were so good together.  Do you remember?  Are you really gonna hold this over my head forever?”

    “What, you mean how you used me as a prop and tossed me out when your publicist decided I wasn’t good enough for you?  Or do you mean how you set it up to make it look like I was cheating on you?  Oh, and who was cheating on whom, again?”

    He sat on the edge of his seat, eyes shimmering with oscar-worthy emotion.  “What we had was real.  I said I still wanted to see you, and I meant it!”

    You put on a deep, goofy sounding voice and a dumb smile.  “Oh, hey babe, that was crazy with all that paparazzi and the kid I hired to basically sexually assault you, huh babe?  By the way babe, we’re totally broken up babe because what you told me in private is like way too crazy for my career, but uh, we could still chill and make out sometimes, sounds like a good deal to me, huh babe?”

    His expression soured, but not for long.  This was an A-list actor after all.  Faking a smile to get what he wanted was a regular tuesday.  “I did what was expected of me.  You know what it’s like in the big city, what it’s like dealing with the media as a public figure.  You saw me go through it all.  I did what was best for us.  People want to see who they want to see together!”

    “Your publicist wanted to see Keith Thorn with his co-star Maria Poltress cuddling up in interviews to boost press for your upcoming movie.  Looks like it worked pretty well, didn’t it?  What was it, ten million more at the box office than you expected?”

    “...Babe.”  He smirked, like he’d just won a game you were playing.  “You’ve been keeping up on my career.”  He squinted his eyes and leaned in.  “You still feel it, don’t you?”

    You’d never understood the expression “seeing red”.  You did right now.

    “I will give you five seconds to get out of this office before I start screaming for someone to come remove you.”

    The smile was gone.  Keith Thorn, millionaire, award-winning actor, owner of a million women's hearts, stood up and straightened his far too expensive outfit.  “Hey, it’s your loss, babe.”  The door opened behind you.  “But now I know.”  You could feel the smile return, oozing on his face.  “You’ll always find your way back.”

    The door shut much louder than a moment ago.

    You opened your laptop and continued working on the other files.  You sat up straight.  You made no noise.  But the tears came anyways.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith, you are a bad word that I won't say because you're not worth my time.  
> Sans, what the heck did you do.  
> Boys, man.


	13. The Universe is 96% Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What. Just happened.  
> I was just sitting here, minding my own business, when suddenly BAM!! A chapter smacks me right upside the head, grabs my laptop, and takes off. So I just ran with it.
> 
> ...Get it? Eh?? ...Yeah, my puns still need to get back in the game, I know.
> 
> So this chapter is a little longer than the last few. And by a little I mean maybe a lot. And, as we know, that means plenty of opportunity for pain and suffering! Yay!

 

**Chapter 13**

    The following days were very quiet in your apartment.  You didn’t think you could have handled them any other way, to be honest.

    Keith had left the building long before you, probably right after you told him to get lost, and had left you to discover your own means of getting home.  You had refused to call your mother.  She would know you had something to do with the news stories, and she would ask you about Sans.  You’d been keeping her in the loop, letting her know the little Sans told you on your weekly hangouts.  She hinted constantly at how great he sounded.  You knew she was probably just happy to see you close to someone, even as a friend, after what happened with Keith, but… if you talked to her right now, it would be all tears.  Sans had convinced her monsters were kind and good.  You couldn’t let that view be soured.

    Plus, the fact that you had seen Keith would have come up.  And you really didn’t need to bail your mom out of jail after she beat up Keith and all his bodyguards.

    Luckily, you caught someone who looked important while peeking out of your door.  You asked them to get you an uber to the airport, and they graciously obliged.  Your baseball cap and sunglasses disguise might have been cliche, but they worked well enough that no one asked you any questions.

    Now, back in your home, after days of reports pouring through your social media streams, things outside your four walls were looking up.  Some of the M.A.P.s had even been interviewed, and they did in fact look very happy and healthy.  But every time you heard an official statement from the Bureau of Magical Advancement (BoMA) that had been overseeing the lab, you couldn’t help but directly compare what they said to what Sans had told you.

 

     _“We have been striving towards reintegration for our Magic-Affected Persons as our ultimate goal.”_

    “these scumbags are lookin’ at how to weaponize every one o’ these people.”

 

     _“Our projects have not been conducted in secrecy as suggested, rather we have been careful in respecting the delicate and necessary privacy our guests have required.”_

    “some of what you’ll see in there is… not entirely ethical.  not that they did anythin’ to anyone they can’t buy out or keep quiet now.”

 

     _“We are thrilled to share the certainty that soon, these people will be relocated to homes where they will be cared for within the public, beginning an integration of humans and monsters.”_

    “i’ve been tryin’ to convince them for months that the initial stage of magic use, even within a monster, is somethin’ that has to be treated carefully.  in a human it’s incredibly unstable.  a person… needs a monster nearby.  like a sponge to soak up excess magic.” He didn’t quite make eye contact.  “otherwise it… it gets messy.  if we don’t get this info out, if we don’t make these reports public and get people to demand answers… they’re not listening to me and alphys anymore.  we gotta get these people into a situation where they’re safe.”

    “Then why not just oust them?  Why not tell everyone how crappy they are?  Why should I waste my time sorting through these files to make them look better?”

    “these people ain’t just gonna go away.  friends close, enemies closer.  trust me, we don’t wanna force them to go off on their own.”  He smirked just a little.  “they might turn into a ticking time ‘boma’.”  You weren’t in the mood to laugh.

 

    You understood why it had been important, to get the files out.  To get those people out.  That part, you understood.

    The other part, the part concerning you… not so much.

    Slamming your laptop shut much harder than you intended, you went to make yourself a burrito.

 

    The next day you woke feeling uneasy.  Your first thought was that maybe you were forgetting something important, like going in to work, but the spa had stopped calling you two days ago.  You felt bad at first, but then you listened to your messages and heard the owner saying she had felt very “threatening energies” around you as of late, and that unless you wanted to come in for a cleansing, it was probably best to take some time off and “reopen your chakras, and heal your aura”.  She had a baggie of crystals to aid the process, she said, if you felt like coming in to grab them.  Whatever, then.  It was probably time you ended that sham of a job, anyway.

    Noon rolled around, and you finally decided you were sick of just lying in bed.  Maybe your terrible sleep schedule was what had you feeling so odd today.

    The kitchen sink had a vague odor.  The fridge was desolate.  The pantry was depressing.  Was it your bad eating habits?  Probably all of the above was making today feel so hard, you decided as you poured cereal into a pot and grabbed a ladle.  After all, you’d been living like this basically since that conversation in the field, almost a week ago--

    Oh.  Today was Thursday.

    You abandoned the pot and went into the other room.  Then you immediately changed your mind and came back to cradle the pot grumpily to your chest before returning to the front room to watch some good ol’ problem-obscuring youtube.

    Not in the mood to put forth even the slightest amount of effort, you clicked on the first video you saw and turned on autoplay.  You watched someone play a horror game, listened to a far too peppy music video, even let every commercial play out to it’s fullest.  Your plan was going great; your brain felt as mushy as the cereal you were still only halfway through.  Pots were much deeper than bowls, you were now recognizing.

    Shoving another ladle-full into your mouth, you wriggled deeper into your second-hand but very fluffy couch and sighed as another video started.  This was perfect.  You didn’t have to think at all.  You could sit here all day, nourished by your gigantic portion of cereal, blinds shut tight and lights all on so you never even had to think about when evening came.  You weren’t going to move from this spot.

    The doorbell rang.

    Great.  You'd forgot about what happened around two o'clock lately.

    Grumbling, you got up and walked dutifully to the door.  Arthur the local florist was waiting there, as he had for the last five days.  He greeted you by name.  Yup.  By first name.  It’d gotten that bad.

    “So, I’ve got a request,” he said, as you signed the form saying that, yes, he’d brought the delivery as promised.  “I remember how you explained why you’ve been gifting all these deliveries forward to my wife, and she is very appreciative, but I’ve been offered a very nice tip if I can get you to take this one inside.  And we’ve been saving up to get the AC fixed at our place, so… whaddaya say?  Help a neighbor out?”

    You sighed, looking over the form to see what the delivery contained.  The first time Arthur showed up on your doorstep, you’d been angry.  First, that Keith Thorn, egotistical idiot extraordinaire, had disrespected your privacy enough to make someone dig up your new address, and secondly, that he thought this could get him anywhere.  The list usually was of several bouquets, but today Keith must have somehow miraculously realized you had limitations.  Only one item was on the list.

    “...How can I deny a neighbor,” you finally said, and Arthur gave you a smile and a tip of his hat.  But when he returned from his van, you realized this one item was not what you had been hoping for.

    You couldn’t even see his face.  It was just legs, arms, and flowers.  Incredulous, you stepped out of the way as he hauled what looked like a very heavy arrangement of red roses into your hallway.

    “Wh...where…”

    “Uh-- this way,” you said, guiding him towards the kitchen table.  He set it down with a final puff of breath.  You said thanks and goodbye.  At least, you were pretty sure you did.  Your head was still whirring from what had just entered your home.

    What looked to be a hundred roses sat there, almost as if they were expecting praise from you any moment about how beautiful and full they were, or how aromatic, or how deep their color ran.  And in the middle stood a card, with the words “You only find One in a million” written on it.  You recognized the handwriting.  It looked very similar to the handwritten letters you used to receive from Keith.  Aka, the handwriting of Keith’s secretary.

    You turned around and pulled scissors out of a drawer.

    After five destroyed flowers, you decided you should start giving each reasons why they were being destroyed.

    “You… are that costar slut.”  Slits of red petal dropped to the bottom of their stem’s place in the arrangement.

    “You are that stupid publicist.”  One corner of this bundle was starting to look quite bare, and you were feeling pleased with yourself.

    “This one is for when that guy who kissed me on the freakin’ cheek cuz Mr. Idiot A-lister told him too.  Lucky I didn’t sue him.”

    “That’s for treating me like I’m just another thing to entertain yourself with.”

    “How about how hard I had to work to start trusting people again.”

    “How about how my independence and privacy feels like a sham.”

    “How about all the lies?”

    “What about--”

    You stopped.  Keith hadn’t popped into your mind.  You realized… somewhere along the way, you’d stopped thinking about him.  You had accepted and understood long ago what kind of person he really was.  His wounds were old and healing, he hadn’t been able to reopen them.  The person you were slicing up flowers for was…

    Your hands were shaking, and you decided it was safest to put the sharp objects down.  Sans had lied to you, in the worst way he could have.  You’d thought you were friends.  You’d thought that was why he cared.  You’d certainly cared.

    His words began flooding your mind again, and as you covered your face, his voice seemed to float through the room.

 

    He’d told you what was on the drive.  That it was his notes, along with the shared notes of a few other associates, concerning the progress and status of the M.A.P.s.  Along with one or two falsified ones to make it look like the plan had been to release the information and the people all along.  He said there was a lot to go through.  He said there was only a little about you.  But it was enough.

    When the magic had first spread, Alphys had done a scan to assess the damage, and when Sans had gone over it, he noticed an anomaly.  The excess magic around Jared’s reaction point was much larger than his magic level should have created.  So Sans had snuck down the mountain on his own to find out why that might be.

    He found you.

    He could sense the magic pulsing from you.  For some reason, when the wave had hit, you didn’t release your magic like everyone else.  The wave had instead built up inside you.  It was almost like it was doubling back on itself, active but unpredictable.  Whereas the M.A.P.s at the lab had very consistent patterns, your magic didn’t seem to like following rules.

    Regardless, Sans determined he should bring you in, but before he could file a report, BoMA started acting strangely, taking more control than should be taken in a normal safe lab environment.  Sans swore Alphys to secrecy about you.  You would be his own personal experiment.

    The next night, he watched you walk into an open field.

 

    Used.  Devalued.  Too unstable or unfit to truly be accepted or allowed.

    You were sensing a pattern.

    But things had been so different with Sans.  He’d made you laugh, laughed with you, babbled on for hours with you about the universe.  Even shared your innermost thoughts on life and the meaning of it.  You were grateful you’d never told him what you told Keith.  That was something you’d swore never to tell anyone again, but… if you were honest… you’d been closer than you liked to breaking that vow.  The idea had come up.  More than once.

    You hadn’t read the reports.  You’d destroyed the drive after you were finished with it.  No reason to go back over the fact that you were just--

    You walked back into the front room.  The milk in your pot was starting to smell.  You ignored it.   Youtube was needed.

   Curling back up, you realized that you’d never actually stopped the autoplay.  That was fine with you.  More youtube gamers and musicians flashed across your screen.  You began to repeat the words of the more regular commercials before they were actually said.  Eventually, a familiar clip popped up as the next video, a scene from the movie Mulan.  Perfect, some animation to aid in halting reality.

    Mulan was sitting in the snow, her horse coming along and dropping a blanket over her. Oh, you knew this scene.  This was the part right after she was ousted as a woman pretending to be a man, and right before the first big jump-scare of your childhood, the hand of Khan popping out of the snow.  (“Like daisies!” you thought with a grin.)

    “Maybe what I really wanted was… to prove I could do things right,” Mulan was saying to her dragon helper, Mushu.  “So when I looked in the mirror, I’d see someone worthwhile.”  Ouch.  That one actually struck home.  You thought about switching to the next video, but you didn’t want to admit defeat.

    “But I was wrong. I see nothing.”

    You stood your ground.  You were far too comfy to move, anyway.

    Mushu seemed as affected as you.  He made a joke, tried to get her to laugh and feel a little better.  You shifted in your seat.  This spot was feeling less and less comfy.

    Mushu gave up, shoulders drooping in defeat.  “The truth is we’re both frauds.  Your ancestors never sent me, they don’t even like me.”  Two liars.  Two, stupid, big fat liars.  You glared a hole through the screen.  “You risked your life to help people you love.  I risked your life to help myself.  At least you had good intentions.”

    Well. At least that part didn’t apply.  They’d both been selfish.  Keith had only done what was self-satisfying or good for his career.  Sans had used your time as a personal experiment, away from controlling forces.  ...Dangerous controlling forces.  At a personal risk to himself, into the unknown.  While revealing personal information and thoughts, and defending and supporting yours and--

    You smacked the laptop shut.

    “What?!  What d’you mean, you’re not lucky??  You… lied to me?  … And what’re you, a shee--”  The sound finally stopped.  Rude.  Shut means stop.  Stupid video.

    Sans had been a jerk.  An absolute jerk.  And you were just hurt because it had happened before, that was all.  He didn’t get to try and apologize, or ask you to consider forgiving him.  That wasn’t allowed.

    Was it allowed?

    Keith hadn’t even looked your way between you turning his offer down and you calling him up.  Now it was about winning, not about forgiveness.  But Sans… he had apologized profusely.  He had asked you to let him keep apologizing by showing up the next week.  Tonight.

    He’d been in the wrong.  But did that mean all the good he did didn’t count for anything?  Giving your life to save your father, to try and save China, should count for something, right?  Just because he’d dressed up as a woman…

    Ok.  You were stretching this comparison too far.

    A streak of light caught your eye.

    One blind on the windows sat crooked from the rest, allowing a single ray of sunlight to splash into your home.

    Sunset.

    Butterflies danced in your gut.

 

    The walk to your spot was long.  Far too long, and you were walking far too slow.  What would he even want to say?  Would he reiterated what he’d been doing, why he’d met you in the first place?  Would he ask if you’d read the reports?  Would he ask why you hadn’t?  Maybe insist that you enter the program now that it was becoming public and safe?  Would his apology consist of him saying he would have never told you anything at all if he’d had the option?  That he would have kept lying to you forever, pretending he simply wanted to be friends all along?

    The more you thought about it, the more there was nothing he could say that was good.  Everything ended in you feeling worse, small and foolish and inconsequential in front of him.  There was no path you could see where this ended with you forgiving him.  What if you couldn’t ever forgive him?

    That thought gave you more panic than you expected.

    And then you were there.  At the edge of the clearing.  You felt a pressure against your sternum.  And he had been pacing, waiting for you to come, and he smiled when he saw you, and--

    “I can’t--”

    You ran.

    You got about twenty feet away before you realized what you were doing and stopped.  Gravity seemed to tear your heart in two directions, like one way was down, and the other was up, and you’d forgotten which was which.   Shakily, you turned around and walked back to the clearing.  You’d apologize for running.  Only because it would give you a better sense of control, and apparently, you really needed that right now.

    Taking a deep breath and setting your shoulders back, you stepped into the open.

    But you were alone.  Sans had left.  Already.

    You weren’t quite sure how to process this.  He’d left, after seeing you run, because he had been here, he’d been nervously waiting for your arrival, he’d been so relieved to see you--

    How he had gotten out of such a large clearing so fast wasn’t important enough of a question to grace your mind right now.  You were a little preoccupied with the fact that he had, and what that meant to him.  And to you.  What if now, you never got the chance to heal?  What if your last words to Sans the skeleton forever were “I can’t”?

 

    The walk back was even more arduous than the walk there.  Every time a branch scraped your body, you stopped and sighed.  Every time a rock slipped under your feet, you let the momentum sit you down on the ground.  How did you feel worse now than when you’d left home?

    Shutting the back door behind you and flipping your shoes into the middle of the room, you did the first thing you could think of and grabbed the pot of mushy cereal, taking it into the kitchen.

After that was taken care of, you leaned anxiously against the counter, letting your vision wander.

    Sans’ jacket.  You’d completely forgotten about it.  It was sitting on the back of a kitchen chair.  You had gripped it the whole way home last week, dropping it only to pack to leave.  And you hadn’t been in much of a cleaning mood since you got back.

    A voice in the back of your head snickered at you.  That sure wasn’t getting returned.  But you’d never have the heart to just toss it out, would you? It would just sit in your home, a reminder of how useless you really were.

    You turned your attention very purposefully away.

    The roses on the table no longer looked to be begging for your attention, as though they knew they were about to get it despite your earlier aversion.  You could almost see the malicious grins in the folds of the remaining undesecrated roses, wide manic eyes in their centers staring down your weakness.  You could almost hear the dozens of high pitched, taunting laughs…  You can't escape your mistakes, they were saying, you can't escape who you are.  Nowhere is safe.  No one is safe.

    You just wanted to be left alone.  You just wanted them to stop...  Just-- _"Just stop!!"_  The table flipped over as you shoved it as far from you as you could, and the flowers went flying.

    After a while, you couldn’t tell if the floor you were kneeling on was wet from the water that was in the vase, or from your tears.  Ugh.  How incredibly emo of you.  You cupped your face in your hands and took deep breaths.  It was ok.  Things were going to be fine.  Everything would be ok.

    You assessed the scene around you.  Dang.  You looked absolutely crazy right now.  Like, soap opera level of crazy.  To be totally honest, you’d been acting more and more insane each day for a week.  You shrunk a little more thinking about it.  How embarrassing.

    Glancing around, something odd caught your eye.  Was that--?

    You picked it up.  A single blue rose.  Your favorite.

    It was hidden behind the card, you realized.  You picked that up too.  There was writing on the other side.  Handwriting that was different from the front.

    “I’d have to be crazy to let my One go without a fight.”  Then, in smaller letters, “Call me.  We’ll do it your way this time.”

    ...Wow.  You had not expected that.

    “Your way.”

    Your way, huh?

    You thought about it, wiping away tears that were still leaking out.

    Your way.

    You pulled out your phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nooooooooo, what are you doing????? Put it away put it away put it away put it away put it away!!
> 
> Talk about a pattern of wearing away your self worth. This is no good, look, it's made you call up your ex. Again!! If Sans is ever gonna have any shot at you, he's gotta stop you from calling your ex so much.
> 
> ...You guys do still have a chance, right?...


End file.
